


At Least Things Can't Get Any Worse

by fleurdelisee



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Sex, Fashion Night Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdelisee/pseuds/fleurdelisee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, everyone in the industry hates him. Seeing Kurt Hummel’s name alongside yours only means one thing: as hard as you’ll try, he’ll steal the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mandatory post-Fashion Night Out sex riot fic. Title from _Hurricane Drunk_ by Florence + The Machine.

There is not a single person in the fashion industry who doesn’t know about Kurt Hummel. In a ridiculously short amount of time – because honestly, how old is he, he looks _12_ – he managed to make a name for himself, one that makes other male models green with envy and publicists willing to sell their mom to have his face selling their product.

And his face, seriously, it’s the kind of face that makes straighter-than-straight, holier-than-thou grown men uneasy and sweaty because those feelings they suddenly have are not right and it’s the first time it happens to them. They probably go home and have dub-con sex with their wives-dash-secretary-dash-woman-they-consider-inferior to make up for how Kurt Hummel’s face affected them.

So, of course, everyone in the industry hates him. Seeing his name alongside yours only means one thing: as hard as you’ll try, he’ll steal the show.

When he first heard about him, Blaine thought people were exaggerating. He knows how models get, he knows the competition, he’s been around for long enough – not _that_ long, mind you – to suspect the whole thing to only be a bad case of rumours being intensified. Yes, he expected the kid to have a terrible personality because he’s too pretty and too famous for his own good and he’s definitely too young to be able to juggle all of this like a grown adult – like Blaine does, that is – but he never thought he would awaken murderous ideas in Blaine.

The first time they met was for a Gap photoshoot. Not the most glamorous thing Blaine had done – far from it – but it paid and it would put his face in every mall in America, so yeah, whatever, and the clothes were comfortable for once. Plus, he’d been told the catering was always amazing and he was not one to turn down free food.

Blaine immediately noticed Kurt. It was hard not to, really. It was like everyone gravitated towards him, even as he was quietly sitting away from everyone, listening to his iPod and sipping a coffee. Their eyes met from across the room and a perfectly groomed eyebrow quirked in amusement and what looked a lot like interest flashed on his perfectly proportioned features.

As Kurt got up and headed in Blaine’s direction, Blaine noticed the nonchalance that punctuated his movements and whether it was natural or had been acquired through years of self-monitoring, he couldn’t tell. And mostly, Blaine was focusing on his posture to avoid looking at his legs for too long. Long, thin but muscular; as soon as they would put Kurt in skin-tight jeans, Blaine had a feeling a lot of people would lose their coherency. Him included.

Kurt walked right past him to go talk to Blaine’s manager, and oh, great, they shared a manager. Blaine took a subtle step back to be able to hear the conversation. He shouldn’t have.

“Who’s that?” Kurt asked in a cold voice.

“That’s Blaine Anderson. I told you you’d be working with him today.”

“ _That_ ’s Blaine Anderson? Where did you find him, in the list of understudies for walk-in roles in The Hobbit?” Turning to Blaine and seeing he’d been eavesdropping, Kurt let out a dry laugh. “You look taller in pictures.”

“And you look skinnier. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Blaine snapped back before walking away.

They ended up taking too many pictures together because apparently they ‘ _look so good together, yes, yes, a little closer, perfect_ ’ and by the end of the day, Blaine had a very strong urge to strangle Kurt with the over-sized scarf he left the studio wearing. It was cold outside but not that cold, seriously, what a prick. He had spent the entire photoshoot directing insults at Blaine while trying to hog the spotlight and as they watched the end result, it was clear he had succeeded. No matter how good Blaine looked in the picture, it was impossible to look away from Kurt. The look of conceited satisfaction didn’t leave Kurt’s face.

Blaine managed to skillfully avoid Kurt for nearly two years after this first disastrous encounter. It would have continued if they hadn’t bumped into each other at a party in some loft in New York. He had no idea who was hosting it nor why it was being hosted in the first place, but he knew it couldn’t end well. In the two hours he had been there, Blaine had already seen five people doing lines of cocaine and there was a girl passed out in the bathtub.

He was headed for the improvised bar when someone crashed into him. Ready to let it slip and laugh it off, Blaine looked up and at once, his mood changed.

“Look where you’re going, or do you need me to find you stepladder so you can see above people’s heads?” Kurt snapped, pushing – literally pushing – Blaine back.

“Calm the fuck down, okay? Get out of my way.”

“Oh, I’m very scared, Anderson. You’re terrifying.”

Flipping him off, Blaine headed in the other direction, definitely in need of a drink, now. The knowledge that Kurt was present made Blaine jumpy and tensed so after another hour of polite strategical conversations, he escaped on the balcony. The cold March night air hit him and he tightened his arms around him. He was already cold but didn’t feel like going back in.

Blaine rested his forearm against the railing, looking at the street beneath him, getting lost in his thoughts. He had only just decided that the party wasn’t so bad after all when someone blew cigarette smoke in his face.

“You,” Blaine muttered when he saw it was Kurt. He was leaning against the railing, his back to the street and one arm against it, his ridiculously long legs stretched out and his upper body twisted, showing just how thin he was.

“Me,” he drawled, taking a long drag of his cigarette. He let his head fall back and blew the smoke up towards the sky. “Want one?” he asked when he noticed Blaine staring at him.

“Ew, no,” Blaine snarled, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Christ, if you’re going to give me a speech about the poisonous effects of nicotine, don’t.”

“I bet no one told you it would ruin your complexion.”

“And why do you care? If I turn saggy and gray, it means you get more contracts. I smoke so I stay skinny. Haven’t you heard? All the cool kids do it. Well, of course you haven’t.” Kurt quirked his eyebrow with amusement before shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“I don’t really consider you competition,” Blaine said with a dry laugh. It would be stupid to think he and Kurt were interchangeable and stupider to admit he was very aware that Kurt had the potential to steal contracts from him, and probably already had.

“You should, honey.” He flicked the ashes of his cigarettes off the balcony, turning to watch them fall down to the sidewalk, several floors lower.

They stayed silent for a long time, Kurt chain-smoking cigarettes as they watched the never-ending activity filling the streets below them.

“You don’t have to keep me company, you know,” Kurt said curtly. “You can go inside and find yourself a girl for the night. You should hurry up before they’re all too smashed to follow you.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m not staying here for you.”

Their eyes met and Blaine felt something tighten inside of him, something toeing the line between hate and lust. Shaking his head, he looked away and down at the street, feeling Kurt’s eyes linger on him.

“So the rumours are true, then.”

“Which ones? People do say an awful lot of things about me.”

“You know which ones.”

Blaine stayed silent, feeling like the air between him and Kurt was heavier. He risked a glance at him and saw that Kurt was staring straight ahead. All Blaine could see was his profile and his breath caught in his throat the more he studied Kurt’s face. He even made smoking look disturbingly attractive, which might have to do with the way his lips wrapped around the cigarette and almost sucked on it, and yeah, right, Blaine definitely shouldn’t follow this train of thought.

Blaine was taken out of his thoughts when Kurt crushed his cigarette on the railing and flicked it off the balcony before turning so his hip his pressed against the cold metal. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Blaine coldly.

“Jesus Christ you’d think we’re in high school again. If you’re going to make a move on me, now’s the time, otherwise I’ll get back inside and find someone else.”

“And what makes you think I want anything to do with you?” Blaine snapped. Kurt looked like he’d been slapped and that only fueled Blaine’s hatred for him. “You’re not being told no very often, are you?”

“Yeah, you won’t catch me being charitable ever again if that’s the way people thank you, jeez.”

“You were being charitable? Please. You can’t be _that_ full of yourself, Hummel. In what world do you live?”

“The same as you, but instead of passively waiting for shit to happen to me, I work for it. This is why I have a successful career and you’re still in the exact same place you were last year, Anderson.” His voice started getting higher with every word he said, his eyes shooting daggers. “I’m going to Europe, did you hear? Apparently they’re all crazy for androgynous faces, or whatever bullshit they used to sell me over there. How’s next season’s Gap collection?”

Blaine stormed inside without answering. Five minutes later, he was furiously trying to hail a cab, the need to get away making him feel sick. Being reminded that his career was not going as well as he’d hoped when he first started never failed to make him feel terrible.

He finally stopped one and as he looked back at the building one last time, he saw Kurt was still on the balcony. As he got inside the cab, Blaine had the sickening certitude that Kurt was looking down on him with his eyebrow raised in amusement.

The next time he saw Kurt, he wondered how he would manage to not punch his face off. A year had passed and, with Kurt away in Europe, Blaine’s career exploded, his manager finally putting energy into promoting him. But he was back and they had been booked on the same fashion show, and Blaine was in a terrible mood before he even got there.

Kurt pointedly ignored Blaine before the show started, instead sitting with some new faces Blaine had never seen before. Flirting with them. Openly and explicitly flirting with them. At once, after Blaine had spent too much time staring in their direction, they all looked at Blaine at the same time before laughing and Blaine felt anger and hate bubbling inside of him, all of it worsened when he saw that Kurt had an amused smile on his face.

He was expected to befriend Kurt. He had no problems with the other models he sometimes had to work with. All of them were, yes, a bit annoying, but he could deal without too much problems. And it wasn’t like everyone hated Kurt as much as he did, either. He got along very well with others; he didn’t have friends, as per say, but at least no one seemed to want to murder him.

By the time the show started and they had to begin running around to get changed before leaving for the catwalk again, Blaine had convinced himself that paying Kurt too much attention was a bad thing. He had followed his career from afar for the past year and it hadn’t done him any good. He had to get this guy out of his head. Yes, it might ruin some opportunities for him if that meant avoiding him, but he definitely could do without a source of perpetual anger in his life.

This was what Blaine was telling himself as he saw Kurt come out as he headed off the catwalk. Their eyes met as they crossed and it was like every nerve ending in Blaine’s body fired off at the same time. He felt his breath catch in his chest and he forgot where he was or what the hell he was supposed to be doing, instead taking a few backwards steps to keep looking at Kurt, at his ass in those unholy pants, at his _everything_ which was suddenly making his mind reel when seconds ago, he wanted to keep him out of his life forever.

And the way Kurt looked at him, with eyes scorching and full of what looked a lot like lust barely disguised by annoyance, Blaine couldn’t have dreamed it. It was the only explanation to how his stomach twisted and his heart sped up.

That look haunted him for hours afterwards, occupying his thoughts and driving him mad. It was Kurt Hummel, for heaven’s sake, and that Blaine had the stupidity to think he had meant it, that it wasn’t all an act, was foolish. It was all an act. It had to be. They hated each other.

“You liked my pants, huh?” Kurt whispered in his ear during the after-party. He had appeared out of nowhere and pressed himself against Blaine’s back, his hands holding Blaine’s hips tightly. It took Blaine by surprise and he nearly dropped his glass. “Don’t think I didn’t see how you looked at me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Blaine said airily, his eyes darting around the room in search of an escape route.

“You should know you’re not the first to be mesmerised by me. It’s perfectly normal.” Kurt let go of him to step in front of Blaine, resting his weight on one leg so his hips cocked to one side. He sipped at his glass and looked at Blaine through his eyelashes, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“To be honest, I was surprised they managed to squeeze your fat ass in pants that tight,” Blaine snapped.

Kurt’s face fell and he gave Blaine a look that resembled the one he had given him on the catwalk, only this time there was the hint of something dangerous as well. “You’re an asshole.”

“Wow, I’m used to much more elaborate insults coming from you, are you tired? Maybe you should give everything up and find a career that’s more relaxing?”

“You never could deal with competition,” Kurt snapped, rolling his eyes. “And I’m not tired, I’m just keeping my best insults for people who deserve it.”

Blaine blinked and turned his head to the side to watch Kurt curiously. Had he really just said he didn’t think Blaine deserved to be treated like shit? Well, then.

“Are we impersonating animals, now?” Kurt cooed sarcastically. “Let me guess, you’re an owl!”

“And what are you? A kitten? With your tiny little claws, trying to scare me?”

“I’m not a kitten, honey, I’m a tiger,” Kurt huffed, sipping his drink with a dignified look on his face.

Blaine snorted a laugh and shook his head. “Adorable.”

Kurt quirked his eyebrow. “Fuck you.” Another sip.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

“We’re the same age.”

Blaine’s eyes widened before he could try to keep a straight face. “You look twelve, man.”

“Mm.” Kurt frowned at his now empty glass. “Didn’t you know? Paedophilia is very in this year,” he deadpanned. “You should get me another drink if we’re going to do the whole ‘talking to each other’ thing.”

Blaine wouldn’t be able to explain why he simply nodded and set off for the bar, coming back a few minutes later with two drinks in his hands. He still hated Kurt, that much he was sure of, but there was something fascinating about him that he couldn’t really put his finger on. Besides, according to everyone he knew, he was more than due to act impulsively and do terrible mistakes.

“Do you want to go someplace more quiet?” Kurt asked as soon as Blaine handed him his glass and, once again, his eyes widened. “Oh my god, you are such a _male_ , I meant somewhere we’ll be able to hear each other.”

They had the time to finish their drinks before they found somewhere quiet enough to talk. Helped by Kurt’s height – he pulled down the fire escape ladder – they climbed to the roof and stood side by side, watching the thousands of lights all around them.

“We live in a beautiful city, Kurt,” Blaine whispered.

“Ugh, if you’re one of those sentimental drunks, you better fucking go away, Anderson.”

Blaine waited for a beat so he wouldn’t blurt out something rude. “Why are you always such an ass?” he finally asked, glancing at Kurt.

“Oh, am I hurting your feelings?” When Blaine stayed quiet, Kurt sighed. “Because you’re only interesting when you’re shouting abuse at me. Otherwise you’re terribly bland.”

“Really?”

“No, I just hate your fucking face,” Kurt snapped and dug in his pocket, his body contorting as he tried to get the pack of cigarettes out of it. He lit one, handing the pack to Blaine. “Still a boring health freak?”

Blaine ignored him, instead taking a step closer to the edge. Kurt was by his side soon after, invading Blaine’s personal space. The smell of stale cigarette smoke filled Blaine’s nostrils and he scrunched up his nose. “What do you want?”

“Is your apartment closer than my hotel room?”

Blaine let out a chuckle and shook his head. “Very funny.”

“I’m serious. I was serious a year ago and I’m serious now.”

Blaine squinted at Kurt, taking a step away. “You hate me.”

“Of course I do. The thing is, you’re undeniably attractive and I know you think I am, too. I saw you looking, I told you. And not only tonight. You think I’m hot, Anderson.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think I want to have sex with you?”

“Everyone wants to.” Kurt took a step closer so he could whisper in Blaine’s ear. “I’ll let you top. I’ve been told that’s kind of your thing.” With that, he put his hand on Blaine’s crotch and palmed his cock through the denim slowly. “Mm? What do you say?” Kurt’s teeth caught his earlobe and Blaine gasped quietly before taking a step back and away from Kurt.

“You’ve talked about me with other people? For someone who hates me, you seem so very interested in my actions,” Blaine snarled.

“Says the guy who’s been following my European career. Don’t make that face, everyone knows. People talk, Blaine, that’s what they do. I didn’t even have to ask, people are ever so willing to gossip,” Kurt replied loudly.

Blaine mouthed ‘my European career’ to mock Kurt, which made him huff and walk off. “Are you coming?”

Blaine stood still. He watched Kurt who, given the distance and the poor lighting, was only a dark silhouette, and then realised that he literally had nothing to lose if he followed him. Besides, he knew guys who would cut their own arm off to have sex with Hummel.

They made it to the cab without fighting, but as soon as they were inside the bickering started again and when they stopped in front of Blaine’s place, the driver gave them a knowing smirk and punctuated his farewells with a wink. It offended Kurt, who walled himself into a frustrated silence that lasted until Blaine shut the door to his apartment behind him.

“Do you have anything to drink? I’m suddenly realising I can’t do this sober.”

“The door’s over there,” Blaine said with a sigh.

Kurt rolled his eyes, toed off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. Blaine heard him opening several cabinets, his reactions getting more exasperated as he couldn’t find what he was looking for.

“No alcohol at all? You’re even more boring than what they say.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay.”

Kurt laughed at that, a clear sound that illuminated his features for a brief instant. “You’re not getting rid of me this easily, sweetheart.”

Blaine was beyond being angry at Kurt. As he watched him look around the apartment, criticising everything he saw and mocking Blaine’s taste, what he felt was exasperation and fatigue. Blaine was about to kick Kurt out when he shrugged off his jacket and crossed the room to stand in front of Blaine.

“We’ve wasted enough time already. Where’s your bedroom?” His voice was breathy and deeper than usual, which stirred something in Blaine.

“Follow me.”

Kurt leered at Blaine when he walked passed him to go to his room and yes, okay, Blaine could do this. He totally could.

As soon as they had entered the room, Kurt pushed Blaine towards the bed and forced him to sit down, straddling his thigh and putting his hands on his shoulders, a crooked grin on his face. Before Kurt could open his mouth to said something snarky that would inevitably anger him, Blaine leaned up and kissed Kurt, his hands leaving the mattress to settle on Kurt’s hips, gripping tight.

Kurt kissed back, holding the back of Blaine’s head with one hand as the other travelled between their bodies to start on the buttons of Blaine’s shirt. Blaine let out a strangled noise, which caused Kurt to break the kiss and laugh.

“Oh my god, already? Will I have to gag you?”

With a groan, Blaine hauled Kurt off his lap and laid him on the bed, smirking when Kurt let out a yelp and clung to his shirt. Blaine moved him up the bed until he was against the pillows and then settled above him on all fours. He reached to the side to turn on the lamp on his nightstand and a soft, yellow light filled the room. He looked down on Kurt and when their eyes met, he once again felt his stomach tighten. The air stood still for a moment as the two of them seemed to be holding their breath.

After a few more seconds, Kurt sighed, rolled his eyes and yanked Blaine down by grabbing the front of his shirt. Blaine crashed on top of him and when he tried to get off, Kurt held him in place, kissing him again.

It was rough and messy and definitely not what Blaine usually liked but he never really had sex with someone he loathed before, so. Even when their hips started grinding together, Blaine couldn’t help but be annoyed at everything Kurt did, from the gasps that escaped his plump lips to his stupid eyes sending his mind reeling every time they met Blaine’s.

“Seriously, _high school_ ,” Kurt snapped in a breathless voice. He pushed on Blaine until he rolled off and immediately, Kurt got on top of him, straddling his hips and smirking down at Blaine.

“Looks like I’m be the one who’ll have to do the gagging,” Blaine replied, his hands twitching as Kurt worked open the buttons of Blaine’s shirt and pushed his hands under the fabric, moving it off his chest.

“You know, hooking up with male models means no surprise at all, huh. I’ve seen pretty much everything already. And honestly? I wonder why I still decided to do it. I guess I love being disappointed.” Kurt held Blaine’s right nipple between his index finger and thumb and twisted it, smirking proudly when Blaine groaned.

Blaine gripped Kurt’s wrists tight enough to make him wince. “You shut up, now.”

“Make me.”

Blaine let go of his wrists and moved his hand to palm Kurt through his jeans, eliciting a hum from Kurt and making him rock his hips forward. Blaine kept this up until Kurt let out a low moan and batted his hand away to unbutton his pants, undoing the zipper and quickly taking off his shirt. He then sat up on his knees to push his pants and underwear down. Blaine smirked when he saw that Kurt was already hard and that earned him a punch to the arm and a glare. After a few seconds of fighting with his pants, Kurt stood up on the bed to take them off completely. Blaine’s breath hitched at the sight and his cock twitched painfully in the confines of his skinny jeans.

“Someone’s eager,” Blaine commented, undoing his own pants and lifting his hips to wriggle out of them.

“It’s not like I want to spend more time than entirely necessary with you,” Kurt replied coldly as he knelt down and got on all fours over Blaine.

Blaine grabbed his hips once more, his fingers digging into soft flesh and he found himself stroking his skin almost reverently. Kurt shifted his weight to his elbows and kissed Blaine again, sucking his bottom lip between his and dragging his tongue along it. It made Blaine’s cock twitch again and he moved his hand down Kurt’s skin until he could grip his ass and pull him down. Their cocks brushed and Blaine bit his lip to stifle a moan while Kurt gasped. Blaine used the leverage his hands on Kurt’s ass gave him to pull his hips down as he pushed his own up.

“So,” Kurt panted, grinding down. “Does my offer still suit you?”

Blaine frowned at him before he remembered and _oh god_. “Yes, yes, it does,” he replied breathlessly, his hands moving up Kurt’s side, mapping out the soft curve of his hips and the sharp edges of his ribcage. Not that he really cared, really, but Kurt was kind of ridiculously gorgeous and it was hard to resist.

Kurt sat up and nodded, an annoying smirk distorting his features. “You have—”

“Top drawer,” Blaine answered, waving in the direction of his nightstand.

Kurt stretched to get it without moving off Blaine, his muscles flexing and Blaine stared. Kurt was all long expanses of pale skin and taunt muscles and if it weren’t for his awful personality, Blaine would be very scared of falling in love.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Kurt snapped. Yeah, not falling in love any time soon.

After gathering the bottle of lube and a condom, Kurt moved off Blaine and got on his back, putting the supplies on Blaine’s chest and looking at him with a perfect ‘annoyed-model’ pout. It was so similar to what he usually did in pictures that Blaine burst out laughing.

“Your fucking face,” Blaine gasped, laughing even more when Kurt made an offended sound and glared.

“Fuck you.”

“Mm, maybe later,” Blaine said lightly, sitting up and crawling on his knees across the bed, his laughter dying down as he neared Kurt.

Blaine nudged Kurt’s legs apart and settled between his thighs, reaching up and stroking Kurt’s cock a few times. It was right there, you know, and just. Sex, okay? No softening up for Kurt or anything. Kurt’s hips twisted up and he threw his head back, his breath hitching.

As he kept this up, Blaine used his free hand to stroke his own cock, grunting when he saw that Kurt was staring at him intently. Blaine held Kurt’s eyes until he twisted his hands on the upstroke and caused the two of them to gasp. Kurt threw his head back and gripped the bedspread, his chest rising up and down rapidly.

Blaine quickly uncapped the lube and squirted some in his hand. For a second, he considered warming it up but the annoyed click of tongue Kurt did convinced him otherwise. Scooting forward, he used his left hand to spread Kurt’s ass and Kurt moved his legs wider to the sides, shifting uncomfortably when Blaine stared for too long at the trail of precome Kurt’s cock left on his own stomach whenever he shifted. Blaine started by circling and stroking over his hole with a finger, teasing the sensitive skin and enjoying the soft gasps Kurt let out, until Kurt squirmed and cursed.

Blaine pushed his finger in without a warning and smiled with satisfaction when Kurt let out a yelp. “Shit, you fucking suck at this.”

“No, I’m quite good when I can stand the person I’m doing it to.”

Kurt pushed at Blaine’s side with his foot. He was obviously trying hard to look annoyed but it was slipping more and more as Blaine started thrusting his finger in and out. Without asking him, he added a second finger, relishing in the way Kurt gasped and squirmed. He lost no time adding the third one and this time Kurt cursed again, jabbing his heel at Blaine’s ribs.

“Ow,” Blaine said pointedly, pushing his leg away with his free hand.

“Well, _ow_ ,” Kurt snapped, moving his hips and closing his eyes when Blaine used the new angle to push his fingers deeper.

It wasn’t until Blaine crooked his fingers and brushed against Kurt’s prostate that Kurt gasped ‘I’m ready.’

Blaine took his fingers out at once and sat back on his heels, blindly pawing at the bed until he found the condom. He unwrapped it and rolled it on under Kurt’s watchful eyes and it was him who handed Blaine the lube, his pupils blown.

Blaine coated himself with a generous amount of lube before scooting forward and taking a deep breath. He looked up at Kurt and saw he was staring at him, his lips slightly parted. Slowly, almost gently, Blaine pushed his legs up and Kurt hooked his hands behind his knees.

Holding his cock, Blaine rubbed it a few times up and down Kurt’s crack, leaving the sensitive skin wet and glistening.

“Oh my god fuck me already,” Kurt snapped breathlessly.

“Be patient.”

“Fuck patience.”

“For the record, I really hate you,” Blaine said in a low voice as he lined up and slowly started pushing his cock in.

Kurt gasped and bit down on his lip. “The feeling’s mutual,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut when Blaine’s hip pressed against his skin. “Just—give me a moment,” he breathed out.

Blaine looked at him for a second before pulling his cock almost entirely out and thrusting back in roughly. Kurt shouted in pain and his eyes opened.

“I told you to wait!” he said angrily, his face flushing.

“Yeah, I know,” Blaine replied flippantly, thrusting in and out once more.

“Holy shit you’re a moron, fuck. That _hurts_.”

“Such a sob story, Hummel. Are you going tell your mommy I’ve been mean to you?”

“She’s dead,” Kurt growled, clenching around Blaine, who gasped and dropped his head forward.

“You want me to apologise or something?” Blaine said as he started building a rhythm, thrusting in and out roughly. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of their skin slapping together and the occasional moan. “Kurt?”

“What?” he asked roughly.

“Nothing, jeez,” Blaine snapped, rolling his eyes. For a second or two he had considered apologising for being insensitive but that was not happening anymore.

Kurt let go of his legs and wrapped them around Blaine’s waist, his hands gripping Blaine’s shoulders to pull him closer and crash their lips together. The new angle forced Blaine to change the intensity of his thrust and he settled into grinding his hips against Kurt’s, his cock buried deep inside of him. Kurt had his tongue in Blaine’s mouth, exploring every inch of it and causing warmth to appear at the base of his spine. Blaine broke the kiss and started kissing down Kurt’s jaw, nibbling at the hint of stubble and dragging his lips along it. He then moved down to his neck, kissing and sucking angry red marks and he honestly didn’t care that Kurt was going to have to explain the hickeys.

Kurt was rocking his hips in rhythm with Blaine’s, trying to get him even deeper, to feel him even more, and whenever his writhing caused Blaine’s cock to brush against his prostate, he would gasp and clench his ass. Kurt’s nails were digging in the flesh of Blaine’s shoulder and the sting only turned him on more.

Blaine was close, he could feel warmth seeping through his veins and his thrusts became erratic. He pushed himself up so he could move harder, snapping his hips forward rough and quick. Kurt was moved up the bed with every thrust and all he could do was twist his hands in the bedspread and shut his eyes tightly. Blaine’s hips stilled as he came, his entire body tensing up and his breath catching in his chest.

With a shaky sigh, Blaine slowly pulled out and rolled on his back, his breath coming out ragged and quick. He wiped sweat off his forehead with his arm and let out a shaky breath. After a few minutes of lying motionless, Blaine took off the condom and threw it away, and he was ready to fall asleep right there and then.

“Hum, I’m still there,” Kurt said as he pushed at Blaine’s arm.

Blaine rubbed his eyes and grunted. “I know, otherwise this moment would be perfect.”

“I still haven’t come.”

“And how is this my problem?”

“Fine.” Kurt groaned in frustration. “I’ll deal on my own.” He rolled so he was half on top of Blaine, where he began humping his hip.

“What are you, a dog?” Blaine asked and Kurt slapped his side.

“Fuck you _so_ much, Anderson.”

Sighing more for show than anything else, Blaine snaked his hand between their bodies and wrapped it around Kurt’s cock, who let out a shuddering breath and started kissing over Blaine’s collarbone. Blaine quickened his pace, his fist moving up and down Kurt’s length rapidly and he was kind of enjoying the gasps he let out against his skin. Without so much as a warning, Kurt came, his teeth sinking in Blaine’s flesh as his come streaked across Blaine’s fist and stomach.

Kurt was still for a moment, panting against Blaine’s skin, and then Blaine felt him lapping at the spot he had bitten.

“What are you doing?”

“I made you bleed.”

“That’s so fucking gross on so many different levels, seriously,” Blaine snapped, pushing Kurt away. He collapsed next to him on the bed and laughed under his breath.

Blaine was slowly drifting to sleep when he heard Kurt shifting next to him. Opening one eye, Blaine saw that Kurt was leaning over the edge of the bed and when he laid back again, he was holding his cigarettes.

“No, no, fuck you, you’re not smoking in my room. You’re not smoking _in my bed_ , you’ll set the whole building on fire.”

“Ask me if I care,” Kurt snapped before lightning a cigarette and taking a long drag from it. He blew the smoke right in Blaine’s face, smirking proudly afterwards.

Blaine knew that talking might be a good thing but he couldn’t come up with anything to tell Kurt. He knew most of what would come out of his mouth would only worsen the situation so he stayed silent.

“Your pillow talk is charming,” Kurt commented after putting out his cigarette in a glass of water that had been abandoned on the nightstand. “Well, it’s been nice and all, but I really need to get out of here, now.” Kurt sat up and took his underwear from the floor, slipping them on.

“Stay,” Blaine said before he could stop it and seriously, what? He wanted nothing more than to get Kurt out of his life. Forever, preferably.

“Sorry, what? Oh, you big softy, have you developed a little crush on me? That’s completely normal, you know, I don’t blame you.”

Blaine groaned but stopped trying to hold him back. Once he was fully dressed, Kurt lingered at the foot of the bed, looking at Blaine with an intensity that made him squirm and want to cover himself.

“I’ll call you. Next time I’m bored. If that’s okay.” He paused. “Not that I care.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blaine replied, waving his hand dismissively. Kurt nodded and turned, crossing the room in long strides. “Wait,” Blaine called.

Kurt stopped in the doorway and turned, his arms crossed over his chest. “What.”

Blaine had thousands of things to say but most of them he wasn’t ready to admit to himself, let alone to Kurt. He had done enough mistakes for the night. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again. “Nothing.”

Kurt smiled briefly, a real smile that illuminated his features but strangely enough, made him less gorgeous than his usual annoyed frown, and then he was gone, the front door slamming shut. His entire body sore, Blaine rolled on his stomach and hugged a pillow to his chest, and if it smelled like Kurt, he pretended very hard that it didn’t affect him.


	2. Something About Lonely Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I think that’s a lie,” Blaine eventually says. “I think you care too much and it frustrates you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from _Yoü and I_ by Lady Gaga.
> 
> Mandatory sequel to mandatory post-FNO-sex-riot fic.

Ohio is so anti-climactic. Kurt isn’t sure he can really explain that thought, but everything in this state, and especially everything in Lima, feels like one big failed climax. Like it could have been something great but abandoned before reaching the apex, instead settling for boring old stillness.

 _Stillness_. Now that’s a good word to describe Lima. As he sits on Rachel and Finn’s porch, Kurt feels like everything around him is stagnating. Nothing has changed since he left for New York and nothing ever will.

Kurt would be happy to never come back, instead inviting his family to visit him in New York like he does with his other friends, but his niece’s birthday always manages to drag him back for a week. It’s the longest time he can stand in this town without losing his mind.

Kurt glances at Finn, who’s holding his sleeping daughter against his chest and looking down at her like she’s the most precious thing he has. Finn catches Kurt’s eyes and smiles, the big happy smile he gets whenever he talks about his family.

Rachel is sitting next to him in the swing that they keep on their front porch and she’s stroking her daughter’s hair, the same look of adoration etched on her features. Kurt is sitting in a wicker chair with his legs resting on the wood railing and crossed at the ankles. The scene he’s witnessing is so sweet he feels a bit sick.

“How have you been?” Finn asks him in a soft voice so as to not wake the toddler asleep in his arms.

“Good,” Kurt answers immediately. “Ish,” he adds after thinking about it for a second. “It’s been a long year.”

“Clearly. You couldn’t even get here for Christmas,” Rachel says and there’s bitterness in her voice.

“I was in Amsterdam,” Kurt replies. He was in Amsterdam with five other male models whose names he never even learned, and there had been colourful pills, too much alcohol and a definite lack of clothes. Kurt shuts his eyes and breathes loudly through his nose, trying to push  
away the terrible memories of that night. “I wish I could have been here.”

Rachel hums. They’ve had this conversation before and the last time, it turned into a fight because Kurt let slip he might miss her daughter’s birthday, which he quickly discovered was not the right thing to say to Rachel.

“Are you still single?” Finn asks and when Kurt turns his head to glare at him, he sees a wicked smirk on Finn’s face.

“There’s been some guys, but none of them really lasted.” And now Kurt really needs a cigarette. “With my career, it’s hard to keep relationships, I’m always travelling.”

“I managed,” Rachel says and this time she sounds reproachful.

Kurt sighs and slips lower on the chair, bending his knees to avoid falling off. “I didn’t come here to be scolded, Rachel. Let me make mistakes like a grown up and stop judging me all the time. It’s getting old.”

Kurt lights up a cigarette after that and finds a perverse pleasure in the glares Rachel and Finn both send him.

“Your voice,” Rachel says faintly.

“What about it?”

“You’re going to ruin it.”

“I’m not singing anymore, Rachel. Actually, people sort of expect me to keep my mouth shut and look pretty.” He shrugs. “It calms me down. It’s either that or alcoholism, so whatever, at least this won’t give me delirium tremens.”

“Cancer, though,” Finn comments.

“Everything gives you cancer, Finn.” Kurt pushes himself up in the chair and shifts to sit on his legs. “It’s not like I plan on living very old, anyway.”

“Now you’re just being stupid.”

“Am I? As soon as I get wrinkles, I’m over.”

“Quinn used to say the same thing,” Rachel tells no one in particular. Kurt bites back his comment, convinced that telling Rachel no one cares about the frustrated lesbian relationship she had with Quinn in high school would only cause her to storm away and stop talking to him forever. “Look, Kurt—”

“Don’t bother, Rachel,” Kurt snaps.

The silence that follows is tense and it’s quickly too much for Finn to endure.

“I’ll go put her to bed, you show Kurt to his room?” he tells Rachel, carefully getting up and entering the house. As he opens the front door, light pours out and Kurt curses under his breath when he finds himself thinking the setting would make very gorgeous pictures. Even when he’s on holiday, he can’t get out of his career’s mindset.

Rachel looks like she’s going to try to lecture Kurt on his life choices again so Kurt gets up and heads in after Finn, going straight for the kitchen. He opens the tap to put out his cigarette and then discards it in the trashcan before leaning against the large bay window to gaze into the darkness filling the backyard. He can barely make out the swing set, slide and sandbox he’s pretty sure Finn cursed when he put together and for a brief second, he envies his life. It’s gone in a flash, the feeling of being trapped and confined by the endless motionlessness of life in this town creeping in.

Kurt goes to bed long after he heard Finn and Rachel get ready for the night. The house is quiet and silent and so very still and he tosses and turns all night, unable to find rest.

The next day finds him on the backseat of Finn’s car as they’re all going to the mall. He’s not sure why he agreed to come along; perhaps the idea of spending the day alone in a suburban house was too much to take. Rachel is looking through a magazine, double-checking the stores they need to stop by for the clothes she wants and she’s muttering under her breath. Finn is humming along to the song playing on the radio and Kurt wonders when exactly these two became old. They’re not even twenty-five yet but they act like Burt and Carole would, right down to the bickering over the best road to take.

“Hey, Kurt, didn’t you do a shoot with this guy a few years ago?” Rachel asks, bringing Kurt back to reality.

She twists in her seat to hand Kurt the magazine and sure enough, he finds himself looking at Blaine Anderson. A shirtless Blaine Anderson. His throat tightens and he quickly hands the magazine back to Rachel.

“Yeah, I did.”

“He’s gorgeous,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Did you—”

“Rachel!” Kurt snaps and she laughs loudly.

“Don’t get all offended, honey, no one would blame you. And we all know what kind of lifestyle you lead, mm?”

Kurt huffs and glares at Rachel, who keeps looking at him unwaveringly. “I’m not answering this question, you gossipmonger!”

“You know I would never spread any rumours about you!” It’s Rachel’s turn to huff.

“And yet there are things only you knew that—”

“Alright, alright, enough of that you two. And it’s not like I want to hear about my brother’s sex life,” Finn snaps and then turns a corner too sharply to enter the crowded parking lot of the mall.

Kurt keeps a low-profile as he follows Rachel and Finn around the mall and with every passing second, he regrets his decision to come with them. Watching them interact really is like watching his parents and he feels like he doesn’t belong in the family they’ve built. They talk about dinners at the Hudson-Hummels’, of ballet and violin lessons, of groceries shopping that needs to be done, and Kurt feels like he intruded in their lives. His plane only leaves in five days and his stomach twists unpleasantly at the thought.

By the time they reach the food court, he’s so depressed he could cry and then, in a split second, his day gets officially and thoroughly ruined.

“Kurt?”

Kurt chokes on his sip of iced tea when he recognises the voice. Looking up, he sees Blaine standing next to the table, staring at him with a mix of disbelief and barely disguised disappointment.

“Blaine! What a surprise!” Kurt says, faking a happy voice. “What are you doing here?”

Blaine glances at Finn, Rachel and their daughter and then plasters a smile on his face. “Of all the malls in the country! I didn’t know you had friends in Ohio.” It’s clear from his tone that he meant ‘I didn’t know you had friends _at all_ ’ and Kurt glares at him.

“Family, actually.”

Blaine introduces himself, all charming smiles and politeness and Kurt wants to punch him. Rachel and Finn seem sold by him and Finn offers Blaine to sit with them, saying with a smile that ‘Kurt’s friends are our friends.’

“We’re not friends. We’re colleagues,” Kurt says sharply, glaring at Blaine as he sits down in front of him.

“Don’t be silly, we’re good friends. Aren’t we, Kurt?” Blaine asks, still with a blinding smile.

If Kurt answers honestly, Rachel and Finn will give him hell for being an asshole. If he lies, Blaine has won and that might just kill him. Blaine has him cornered and he knows it, the bastard.

“Of course we are, I was only joking,” Kurt says before forcing a laugh and kicking Blaine’s shin under the table. “So, what’s bringing you here?”

“I’m visiting my parents.” Blaine shrugs. “I’m leaving in two days, though. Big contract waiting for me in LA.”

“That’s awesome, I’m happy for you,” Kurt replies. The look Finn shoots him tells Kurt it was not convincing at all. “Anyway, we won’t hold you back any longer, you must have better things to do?”

“No, not really, I was about to go be bored at home,” Blaine answers.

“Well, then, that settles it, Blaine will accompany us! It’ll be more interesting for you, Kurt.” Rachel gives them both a large smile and starts gathering her things.

Kurt grabs Blaine by the elbow as soon as Finn and Rachel are out of earshot, pulling him aside. “What are you doing?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m making your life a living hell. I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job at it, too.”

“It’s not funny. Making me look like an asshole in front of my family is not—”

“Not nice? When have I been nice to you, Hummel? When have we been nice to each other? I didn’t know we had that kind of relationship. Perhaps if you had called me—”

“Wait, what? You expected me to call you?” Kurt lets out a dry laugh, his eyes widening. “We didn’t get engaged, we had sex. I have no obligations towards you.”

“You said you would,” Blaine snaps and it almost looks like he’s sulking. Idiot.

“It was a conversation-filler, yeah. What did you expect? I was horny, you were there and you had a dick. That’s all I was asking for. If I were looking for a serious relationship, I certainly wouldn’t go looking for it with you.”

Okay, that’s a lie. Kurt wanted to sleep with Blaine specifically the two times he offered, and he had meant to call but had got cold feet at the last second.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blaine hisses, glancing around at the people looking curiously their way.

“Do I really need to spell it out for you? I don’t want anything to do with you, I never had and I never will. I don’t know what it’ll take to make you understand it!” Kurt whispers roughly, glaring at Blaine.

Blaine holds his gaze unwaveringly and Kurt can feel some of his anger dissipating as he stares into Blaine’s eyes, which is such a bad thing there probably isn’t a word strong enough to describe the immensity of just how _terrible_ it is.

“I think that’s a lie,” Blaine eventually says. “I think you care too much and it frustrates you.”

“Nice try, Dr. Phil.” Kurt needs to get away. He needs to go away and never see Blaine again. Blaine is cornering him and it’s going to cause damage he does not want to have to deal with. “Look, Rachel and her crazy are far away, you can stop pretending and get the fuck away, alright? Disappear. Now.”

“Oh hell no. I’m having way too much fun. Do you think I can get myself invited for dinner? Is that the kind of things she would do? I bet it is. Oh yes, your eyes are totally telling me she’ll do it.”

Kurt shakes his head slowly, the horror of Blaine’s plan sinking in. “Oh my god, please don’t.”

“ _Please_? Are you begging? Pathetic.”

And Blaine does just that: within five minutes of discussing with Rachel and Finn, he’s been offered to join them for dinner, and all Kurt can do as his brother, best friend and arch nemesis chat happily over Rachel’s inedible vegan Shepherd’s pie is down glass after glass of red wine.

Blaine has Finn and Rachel wrapped around his finger. He makes them laugh until Finn wipes tears from his eyes, he compliments Rachel on her cooking and her house, discusses sports and cars with Finn and Kurt is seething with anger.

“Did you know, Blaine,” Rachel begins when there’s a lull in the conversation. She’s clinging to her glass of wine and her eyes are unfocused. Kurt braces himself for what’s about to come. “I had a career on Broadway. Don’t give me that look, Kurt, I did and you know it.” Her words are slightly slurred and her voice is rougher and she officially crossed the line between tipsy and drunk. “I really did. I was going to be fantastic. _Fantastic_. But then I got knocked up. And now I give voice lessons in Ohio. How depressing is that, huh?! Fucking depressing, let me tell you.”

Finn clears his throat and Kurt would feel sorry for him if Finn’s unease didn’t make him feel slightly better. “I’m sure Blaine doesn’t want to hear about this, Rachel.”

“Kurt and I,” she continues, ignoring Finn. “We had this plan. If we didn’t make it in our respective career paths – even though Kurt can sing like a motherfucker, just saying – in five years, we’d leave New York, admit defeat, and go back home.” If she’s started cursing, the tears are not too far away. Kurt reflexively starts looking around the room for the nearest box of tissues. “We didn’t want to work as waiters forever. He obviously succeeded but I, oh my god, _I_ didn’t. And now I have stretch marks and a daughter to add to the bitter taste of disappointment this entire mishap leaves in my mouth.”

Blaine nods empathically and pats her hand and there it goes, the levee breaks and she starts sobbing, leaving the room while apologising through her sobs. Finn jumps up, picking up his daughter who’s now crying just as loud as Rachel, and excuses himself out of the room.

“Don’t expect me to apologise for them. You got yourself into this on your own,” Kurt snaps, finishing his glass in one sip and then sighing at the sight of the empty bottle.

Kurt gets up and heads for the patio door, in dire need of fresh air. As soon as he’s on his feet, all the alcohol he consumed rushes to his head and he staggers, cursing under his breath when he hears Blaine’s snigger before hurrying out of the house.

Blaine follows him, sitting on the steps of the patio next to Kurt. Kurt lights a cigarette and blows the smoke in his face, enjoying the look of disgust that earns him.

“I hate this fucking state,” Blaine muses out loud and Kurt turns his gaze from the starry sky to look at him. “Look what it does to people.”

“I know what you mean. It even softens you up. Are you trying to do small talk with me?” When Blaine says nothing, Kurt rolls his eyes, leaning back on his hands to look up at the sky again. There’s a pause and then Kurt takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t call. I didn’t have your number.”

It’s a lie. The day after they had sex, Kurt called his manager and asked for Blaine’s number. He can’t admit that, though.

“Moron,” Blaine mutters. He then extends his hand and waits. Kurt quirks his eyebrow at him and Blaine sighs loudly. “Give me your phone.”

“So you’ll break it? No thanks.” Kurt nonetheless pulls it out of his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to Blaine.

“I think I can use an iPhone,” Blaine snaps, roughly pulling the device from Kurt’s hand.

The screen lights up Blaine’s face as he types in his name and number and then texts himself, giving his skin an eerie glow and accentuating his bone structure. Not that Kurt _cares_ about Blaine’s bone structure, but. It’s a nice one, as bone structures go. It’s part of Kurt’s job to notice those things.

“I’m in LA for three weeks,” Blaine says casually as he quickly adds Kurt’s to his contacts before mimicking his position.

“Fascinating,” Kurt deadpans, putting out his cigarette in a nearby potted plant. “I think you should lea—”

“Did you have plans for the night?” Blaine blurts out and lets out a quiet groan of frustration.

“—ve. Are you asking me out?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? No. You’re probably the only other gay guy in all of Ohio and I need to get laid.”

Kurt winces and lets out a huff. “So charming, Anderson. How could I ever say no to you?” Kurt pauses and gnaws on his bottom lip. “Where would we go anyway, here there’s a constant melodrama being played out and you live at your parents – which, by the way, is totally mature, congrats on your life.”

“I’m only visiting, asshole. And, I don’t know, a hotel room.”

“You seem to assume I want to spend the night with you.”

Kurt wonders if Blaine can hear his heart thumping from where he’s sitting a foot away. He wonders if his voice sounds as breathless as it does to him and, seriously, he wonders why he’s getting so worked up over such a ridiculous offer from someone he hates.

“Look,” Blaine says and he sounds exasperated. “I’m not forcing you. Sex is sex. It means nothing. You mean nothing to me.”

Kurt winces again. “You’ll have to drive, I’m too drunk. And this is also clearly why I’m agreeing to this nonsense.”

Kurt gets up quickly, ignoring his spinning head, and tells Blaine to wait for him in his car before going back inside. He finds Finn holding Rachel close as they sit on their bed, their daughter asleep next to them.

“I’m leaving for the night. Or not. I might come back at like, three. I’ll try not to wake you up. Just. Don’t worry if you can’t find me tomorrow morning, it doesn’t mean I’ve ran away before her birthday.” He nods his head towards the toddler.

“You’re going with Blaine?” Rachel asks, her voice shaky from all the crying she did earlier.

“Mm,” Kurt answers, stepping backwards out of the room in an attempt to run away without looking rude.

“He’s so into you, honey,” she says softly.

“Oh, Rachel darling, we’ve been over this before. It’s not because a guy looks at me that he wants to get with me. And let me tell you, Blaine _definitely_ does not want to be with me.”

“Yet you’re going to sleep with him tonight.”

Kurt sighs. “Go to sleep, Rachel. Stop acting like my mom. It’s making me hate you.”

Kurt leaves the room before she can reply and takes quick strides to the guest room, packing a change of clothes in his old high school messenger bag before running downstairs and leaving the house. Blaine is already sitting in his car and he doesn’t say a word when Kurt climbs in the passenger seat.

“If you have us go somewhere that gives me bed bugs, I’ll sue your ass to Mars and back, understood?” Kurt snaps when the silence stretches on for too long and he starts feeling uneasy. “It’s not because you’re paying that you can go cheap on me.”

“Wait, who said I was paying?” Blaine replies coldly.

“You invited me. If you think I’m going to pay—”

“You clearly have more money than me, you should pay.”

“Thank you for acknowledging how much better my career is going than yours, but I’m still not paying.”

“You truly are a prick, aren’t you?”

“And you wouldn’t want it any other way,” Kurt says, regretting his words as soon as they’re out.

Blaine doesn’t reply and Kurt knows it’s because of what he said. The silence stretches on even as Blaine parks in the parking lot of a hotel and they enter the lobby to check in. They still don’t talk as they make their way to their room, nor when they enter it.

Kurt steps in first and looks around appreciatively. He misses the click of the door being shut so it takes him by surprise when Blaine grabs his waist. Blaine turns him around and walks him backwards, pushing until Kurt falls on the bed. Blaine climbs over him and Kurt scoots towards the headboard. His head has barely touched the pillow that Blaine is kissing him, deep and rough and Kurt is going to blame the dizziness he suddenly feels on Rachel’s cheap wine and definitely not on Blaine’s hands holding his head to better kiss him.

Kurt clings to Blaine’s shirt, letting him lick into his mouth and draw out a soft moan. Blaine’s hands are in Kurt’s hair, pulling slightly and making him groan and arch up against the mattress, pulling Blaine even closer and kissing back fervently. Blaine’s lips leave Kurt’s, trailing down his jaw and to his neck and it looks like he plans on giving Kurt hickeys once again.

“Hey!” Kurt snaps, slapping his arm. “Don’t you dare leave any marks. I am not explaining hickeys to my brother. He’s already confused enough about my life as it is.”

“You’re fucking high-maintenance,” Blaine whispers with a groan, tugging on the hem of Kurt’s shirt with one hand, the other holding him up above Kurt.

Kurt takes off his shirt and shivers when Blaine starts kissing down his chest, his tongue warm and wet every time it pokes out from between Blaine’s lip to lick his skin or tease a nipple. Blaine keeps kissing all over Kurt’s skin, his hands caressing and stroking just as feverishly, and it’s making Kurt fluttery and stupid. His breath is already short and he’s squirming and this makes no sense because _he’s still wearing pants_.

As if he could read his mind, Blaine sits up to work on Kurt’s belt, unbuckling it expertly and smirking dangerously at Kurt. Before Blaine can do anything more, Kurt reaches forward and hooks his hand behind his neck, pulling him closer and crashing their lips together. He nips and bites and licks Blaine’s lips, his entire body feeling like an electric current is thrumming just under his skin. Kurt lets go of Blaine’s shirt to put his hand in his hair, fingers tugging at the gel to free the dark curls and let him properly grip them.

Blaine breaks the kiss to take his shirt off and when he leans back in, Kurt pulls him closer so their chests are pressed together, the contact of skin on skin making his mind reel. Kurt lets his fingers stroke the coarse hair on Blaine’s torso, its presence a sign he probably hasn’t worked in a while. Wandering further down, his hands finally meet the waistband of Blaine’s jeans and Kurt undoes them, pushing them and his underwear down until he can wrap his hand around Blaine’s cock and stroke it, his knuckles dragging against Blaine’s abdomen.

Blaine’s head falls forward against Kurt’s shoulder and he lets out a gasp, the air warm against Kurt’s skin. Kurt uses his free hand to bring his face up once more, kissing him hard and not caring that his lips already feel raw and too sensitive. Blaine lets Kurt jerk him off for a while before pushing his hand away and breaking their kiss, causing Kurt to say Blaine’s name in a needy whine and to raise his head from the pillow in an attempt to follow his lips.

Their eyes meet and Kurt’s breath hitches; Blaine’s pupils are blown to the point his eyes look black and he’s looking at Kurt like he wasn’t expecting to see him there, as if his presence was a surprise. Kurt suddenly feels exposed and vulnerable and he can feel a blush colouring his cheeks. He hopes it only looks like he’s overheated.

And then Blaine is looking away and moving down Kurt’s body, deftly undoing his pants and shoving them down. When Blaine takes him in his mouth, Kurt gasps and moans in a high-pitched voice, his hips leaving the mattress because _damn_ , Blaine knows how to use his mouth. Kurt’s hands fly to rest in Blaine’s hair. He experimentally tugs on the curls and that draws a groan from Blaine’s throat, and the vibrations make Kurt shiver and his toes curl.

Kurt is panting and letting out low, broken moans and when he lifts his head and looks down at Blaine, a whine leaves his lips at the sight of Blaine looking back at him through his eyelashes, lips red and glistening as they’re stretched around Kurt’s cock and suck it hungrily.

“Blaine, I’m—I’m going to— _soon_ ,” Kurt warns in a breathless voice before he can remember that he hates Blaine and should just come in his mouth without telling him.

Blaine nods and pulls off, replacing his mouth with his hand and jerking Kurt off rough and quick. Kurt comes a few seconds later, his entire body tensing up and arching off the mattress as Blaine keeps pumping him through his orgasm.

Kurt lets out a breathless laugh as he comes down, rubbing his eyes and keeping his hands over his face to hide the blissful smile he knows is stretching his mouth. Taking deep breaths to regulate their rhythm, Kurt finally moves his hands away to find Blaine watching him with a half-smile.

“What?” Kurt snaps, frowning.

“You’re—no, forget it.”

Kurt could fucking hit him. This habit he has to never finish his thought makes Kurt want to push him off the roof of a very tall building. Instead, he rolls his eyes and sits up. “Your turn.”

Blaine nods and takes off his pants entirely, moving closer to Kurt. Kurt leans forward and kisses him again, his hand cupping Blaine’s cheek and his thumb stroking over his cheekbone.

“How—” Blaine begins after pulling away from the kiss and sighing softly, his eyes closed.

Kurt kisses his way across his cheek and catches his earlobe between his lips, sucking lightly. “Want me to blow you?” he breathes in Blaine’s ear, smirking when he feels Blaine’s hands grip his hips tightly.

“No,” Blaine chokes out and Kurt moves away at once.

“No? Are you insinuating I’m not good at it?! You’re a fucking douchebag, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt snaps, pushing at Blaine’s shoulder.

“I want your hand and I want to keep kissing you,” Blaine says, breathless and eyes unfocused and _oh_ , okay, well, Kurt is not going to say no to more making out.

Blaine crawls on his knees across the mattress to lie against the pillows and Kurt takes a moment to look at him, to let his eyes travel across Blaine’s body, taking in the taunt muscles and sharp hipbones and he can feel his cock twitching with interest.

Frowning at the inappropriate reaction his body’s just had – this is _Blaine Anderson_ and hot or not, Kurt hates him – Kurt moves forward, locking his lips with Blaine’s once more and wrapping his hand around his cock. Kurt pumps him fast and rough and Blaine’s eyebrows knit together, his lips barely kissing back as he breathes raggedly.

Kurt is hard again in a matter of minutes and he groans before shifting so he can start jerking himself off at the same time that he does it to Blaine. When their cocks brush, they both let out breathless moans and Kurt can feel Blaine shaking under him. Blaine lets go of the vice-like grip he had on Kurt’s hips to cup the back of his head and wrap his other hand around both of them. Kurt covers Blaine’s hand with his and lets him set the rhythm, his breaths now coming out as gasps.

Blaine comes first and he cries out when Kurt starts moving their hands faster, the friction not enough for him but way too much for Blaine as he rides his orgasm. Kurt comes shortly after that and Blaine lazily strokes him through it.

Kurt moves away from Blaine and settles against the pillows, closing his eyes as he waits for his breathing to regulate. He feels boneless and giddy and his head feels pleasantly empty.

“I’m so fucking hungry. I think your friend was trying to poison us,” Blaine says after a few minutes and for some reason, it makes Kurt laugh.

“Me too,” Kurt replies between giggles. “I mean, I’m hungry, too. I don’t think Rachel tried to poison us. This is her regular cooking.”

“No wonder you’re so skinny.”

Kurt smiles at the ceiling. He stops when Blaine pinches his hip as he gets off the bed to get the room service menu from the table. Kurt allows himself to stare as Blaine walks back to the bed and climbs on it, sitting closer to Kurt than entirely necessary.

Kurt leans over him for his pants, shivering when Blaine presses a kiss to his ribcage, and retrieves his cigarettes.

“It’s a no-smoking room,” Blaine says airily without looking away from the menu. “I asked for it.”

Kurt jabs his heel against Blaine’s shin, smirking when he yelps and reaches down to rub it. Even if he’ll have a bruise, they both know Blaine won this round.

They end up ordering five different desserts and raid the mini-bar as they wait for their food to arrive. The rest of the night is a mix of obscene amounts of sugar and alcohol mixed with sex, as Kurt fucks Blaine slow and sweet and far too intimately, their eyes locked the whole time.

The next morning, Kurt wakes up with a pounding headache and a sore body. He freezes when he feels Blaine’s arm wrapped around his waist and panic sets in. Quietly, Kurt moves out of the embrace and gets dressed, fleeing the room before he has to face things he’d rather never have to deal with.

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. Kurt barely has time to breathe in relief and relax after his stressful week at Rachel and Finn’s before Mercedes and Tina arrive to spend the month of August with him.

Tina is slowly swelling to the size of a small planet as her already nicknamed ‘Asian twins’ grow and it’s a full month of shopping for baby clothes and gossiping and Kurt feels like a teenager all over again. Seeing Mercedes and Tina is refreshing and comforting and when he accompanies them to the airport, there’s a weight in his stomach that makes him gloomy and sullen.

“You’ll come see the babies when I give birth, right?” Tina asks for the hundredth time as she pulls Kurt into a tight hug, her oversized belly making it hard for him to properly wrap his arms around her. It doesn’t stop her from clinging to his neck. “I’m due in November. Be aware that if I don’t see your stupid face by my bedside while I pop out watermelon-sized Asians, you’ll be forever banned from any upcoming Asian celebrations Mike organises.”

“Of course I’ll be there, like I would miss you shouting abuse at Mike,” Kurt coos, stroking her hair and planting a kiss on her forehead. “Promise me you won’t cry and scream that your life is over, though. Hearing Rachel do it was already hard enough.”

Tina laughs and shakes her head. She steps back to let Mercedes hug Kurt and she holds him tightly, stroking his back. “Be good, babe.”

“I’m always good,” Kurt replies lightly, clinging back to her.

“You know what I mean. Not everyone is out to screw you up, Kurt.”

“Mercedes…” Kurt says warily, stepping out of the hug. He puts his hands on her shoulders. “I appreciate the intention but it’s really not necessary. I’m _fine_.” He squeezes.

“Your jutting hipbones and the dark circles under your eyes tell me otherwise.”

Kurt sighs loudly and lets his shoulders slump. “I’ve already quit smoking, what else do—”

“For Tina’s sake, yes, not because you wanted to!”

“Cut it out, okay? I don’t want to get angry at you right before you leave. You better go, now. You’ll miss your plane,” he says coldly and sees her eyes narrowing.

Kurt leans in to hug her again and relaxes when he feels her hugging him back. He’s about to move out of the embrace when he sees a familiar face in the distance. He’s still hugging Mercedes when Blaine sees him and stalls, eyes widening in surprise or shock. Kurt can’t tell.

“Do you know him?” Tina asks, following Kurt’s stare.

“Yes,” Kurt replies in a breathy voice. He clears his throat, starts again. “Yes, I know him.”

“Well go and greet him! What are you waiting for?” Tina urges, grinning.

“—no. No, that’s not a good idea. Last time we—it wouldn’t be a good idea to go see him, no.”

Mercedes and Tina frown at him for a few seconds and then Mercedes lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Don’t tell me you slept with him and then ran away in the morning. Not again, Kurt! Last time you did that, you lost all chances with someone who actually liked you.”

“Okay, seriously, you’re making me hate you right now so you better leave,” Kurt snaps and pushes Mercedes towards the departure gate. “I love you both, it’s been amazing seeing you, I’ll be in Lima in November as promised, you come back any time you want, you’re always welcome here,” he says hurriedly. “Bye!”

Kurt almost runs away from them, not waiting for their goodbyes. He already feels the shame caused by his actions sinking in and all he wants to do is go hide in his bed and sleep for a few days.

He doesn’t get to sleep. Mercedes’ words started a tornado in his head. He spends the next few weeks in a constant state of internal turmoil. He barely sleeps, eats only when he’s so hungry he starts feeling dizzy, showers when he remembers to. He’s re-evaluating his entire life, suddenly feeling guilty for things he’s done years ago. He rethinks entire conversations, entire relationships and slowly starts to see a pattern emerging. That sends him into a week-long state of self-loathing so intense he doesn’t leave his bed, chain-smoking until he runs out and then going through all the packs of nicotine gum Mercedes bought him. He feels pathetic, which makes him more depressed.

On the first day of October, Kurt wakes up and feels at peace for the first time in a month. He stayed up until seven in the morning planning what he has to do, and then backpedalling before returning to the original plan.

He knows it’s the right thing to do but that doesn’t make it any easier. He stares at his phone for a long time and then decides to procrastinate and tidy up both himself and his apartment, which takes him a few hours. It’s almost midnight when he finally sits on his couch and starts typing a message before he can change his mind.

He sends the invitation to Blaine and then starts pacing for twenty minutes. Kurt jumps and yelps when his phone chimes and he runs across the room to read the message. Blaine’s only reply is ‘k’ but that’s enough to send Kurt into near panic as he dashes to his room to find something to wear.

Half an hour later, he’s entering the diner he told Blaine to meet him at and locates Blaine easily. There are only four people in the restaurant and they all turn to look at Kurt as he slowly crosses the place.

Kurt takes his coat and scarf off and bunches them on the vinyl-covered bench before sitting on it and nodding his head at Blaine.

“I must admit your invitation surprised me,” Blaine says calmly.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Kurt lies. He almost adds ‘and I figured you had nothing better to do’ but remembers that the first step in his plan is to stop insulting Blaine every time he opens his mouth.

Blaine hums and nods before focusing on the menu. Kurt imitates him and squirms with unease as silence settles in on them. They both order coffees, Blaine with a slice of pie, and then look everywhere but at each other.

Kurt starts mindlessly drumming his fingers on the table and tenses when Blaine puts his hand over his to stop him. “Don’t do that. It’s annoying.”

Kurt looks at him and Blaine holds his gaze and he still has his hand on Kurt’s, which is making his stomach do back-flips. They both jump when the waitress unceremoniously places their cups and Blaine’s plate on the speckled Formica table before walking away.

Kurt grabs his coffee and stares into it, letting the steaming cup warm his frozen fingers. The first sip – even though the coffee tastes horrible and is probably strong enough to unclog plumbing – comforts him and gives him the courage he needs to look up. He finds Blaine’s eyes on him again and quickly looks away.

“High school hasn’t been easy,” Kurt begins in a quiet voice. “I’m not trying to justify my awful personality or make you pity me, but. You have to know that trusting people is hard. And trusting people who show interest in me – that kind of interest – is harder. I mean. The first person—the first guy who _wanted_ me also threatened to kill me after stealing my first kiss. You can imagine how that fucks you up.”

Blaine is silent and when Kurt dares look back at him, his eyes are locked on his cup of coffee. Kurt knows that they’ve reached a crossroad. Blaine has two choices: he can accept Kurt’s beginning of an apology and let him continue, or he can snap that he doesn’t give a fuck and still hates Kurt and officially ruin everything.

“I can imagine, yeah,” Blaine says and lets out a dry laugh. “But you’re not the only one with scars.”

“I know,” Kurt answers and it’s barely audible.

“I wish I could hate you, you know,” Blaine continues. “I tried. I tried telling myself that you’re no good, that you’re rotten inside and that thinking so much about you was a bad idea but, I don’t know. From the first day, you—”

“I saw the way you looked at me, that first day. From across the room. I saw your face and I could almost read your thoughts and it scared me. People don’t fall in love with me, they fall in lust. They _want_ me, want my body and my mouth on them but they don’t want the person that comes with all that. And I didn’t want that. Not again. So I pushed you away. Hard.”

Blaine nods. “I don’t think you’re fat,” he blurts out and Kurt bursts out laughing.

“What?!”

“All those times I mocked your appearance. I didn’t mean it.”

“Thanks, but I still think you’re short.”

Kurt smirks and Blaine smiles earnestly before rolling his eyes. Kurt’s laughter seems to have lifted some of the tension and they both relax.

“Why did you invite me tonight?” And just like that, the tension is back.

“I realised that—that I might care. For you. More than I’d like to admit. And I wanted—to offer to start anew. A second start. A second chance, to make things right. I’m not usually an asshole. I guess you’re scary.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Blaine teases, smiling coyly.

Kurt exhales loudly through his nose. “Yes.”

“Through all this, you seem to assume I actually want anything to do with you,” Blaine says and Kurt’s heart sinks. He snaps his head up to look at Blaine with wide eyes. “Sorry, it’s like muscle memory, isn’t it? It’s automatic, insulting you.”

“I need to work on that, too. There’s just so many easy opportunities for making fun of you. You make it so easy, Blaine.”

“The feeling’s mutual. But, hum, yes. And I hate to admit it, by the way. But yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”

Kurt doesn’t try to hold back the smile that spreads on his face. Slowly, hesitantly, he reaches forward and cups Blaine’s face before leaning across the table and planting a soft kiss on his lips. Blaine kisses back, once, before pulling away and giving Kurt a half-smile.

The silence that follows is comfortable and Kurt feels light. He doesn’t care that the coffee he’s drinking probably will shorten his life or give him some sort of unknown disease because for once, a relationship might actually go right in his life.

“Can we still have sex tonight? Even though we haven’t gone on a proper date yet?” Blaine suddenly asks, looking hopeful.

Kurt purses his lips and raises his eyebrow. “Are you not appreciating the high-end location I chose for our first date, Anderson?” he snaps.

Blaine’s eyes light up and he smiles, his eyes crinkling, and Kurt feels his heart flutter at the sight. “Is that a yes?”

“Come on, finish your cup of Drano, we have a long night ahead of us.”


	3. The Things That Scare Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last installment of the mandatory-post-FNO-sex-riot-turned-series. It’s the epilogue I promised a month ago and really, be happy it happened because I started it all over again three times. Title from 'The Sword and The Pen' by Regina Spektor, which you should all go listen to because that’s what I did, on repeat, the whole time I wrote this.

Before Kurt could fully comprehend what was happening, Blaine took over his life and turned himself into someone Kurt needed to _breathe_.

It begins slowly after that first midnight diner date. Blaine is the one to invite Kurt next, and within a week they’re having almost daily meet-ups in cafés or restaurants during which they talk for hours. Kurt has never talked to anyone that much in so little time, but he feels safe and understood with Blaine, like he can say whatever he wants and Blaine won’t judge him. Blaine seems to be realising the same thing.

It’s during one of those countless dates that Kurt brings up the thing that’s been bothering him for a very long time.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, studying Blaine’s face. There’s an easy smile on it and his eyes light up when he catches Kurt looking at him. “I’m now realising you’re pretty much the best person I’ve ever met,” Blaine grins at that and Kurt rolls his eyes, “and I just. I don’t understand why you were being so mean to me.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, chuckling and shaking his head. “I could ask you the same thing, you know.”

Kurt huffs and leans back in his chair. “I was scared of you, I told you before, don’t you listen to me? Oh my god don’t make me go over this story again, it’s straining enough as it is and—”

“Kurt, Kurt, it’s okay. I do owe you an explanation because I’ve been truly horrible.” Blaine pauses and takes a sip of his coffee, looking outside at the busy street for a moment. Kurt puts his hand over Blaine’s and a warm feeling fills him when Blaine smiles. “I think I really hated you at first.”

Kurt gasps and takes his hand away. He shouldn’t have asked. “Awesome,” he says in a strangled voice.

“No, no, wait! I used to hate you, or at least I think I did. I don’t know. I—I’m really good at being whatever people want me to be? I’m not blaming you or anything, but from the get-go, you were hateful towards me. So I guess I slipped into this, too. Into this ‘arch enemy’ pattern.” Kurt bites back a smile when Blaine does the air quotes. “And you kept being a jerk, so I continued being one right back.”

“And part of why I was so hateful was because of how much of a dick you were.”

“Nice logical fallacy,” Blaine mutters and Kurt rolls his eyes.

“You are _such_ a prep school boy, listen to you,” he says fondly.

“Hey, don’t be so quick to chastise me for it, you’d love the uniform.”

Kurt quirks his eyebrow and takes a sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s. Blaine moves his hand against Kurt’s until their palms are pressed together and their fingers are entwined before squeezing it briefly.

“Seriously, though, you shouldn’t let people shape who you are. Including me.”

Blaine hums and shrugs. “I’m working on it. You’re helping.” Kurt ducks his head and smiles against his will. Blaine is so good at being completely earnest when he says the cheesiest things and it makes Kurt feel all fluttery and stupid. “You’re beautiful right now.”

Kurt blushes and keeps his head down, not wanting Blaine to see what he does to him. “Mm,” Kurt lets out, tightening his fingers around Blaine’s.

“No, I’m serious. The light right now is doing wonders to the colour of your eyes and that blush is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And you should wear more blue. It fits you so well.”

“Blaine,” Kurt moans, freeing his hand to push at his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Making up for all the horrible things I told you.”

“Don’t do that.” When Blaine frowns, Kurt sighs and rubs his temple. “Don’t start trying to repair the past. It’s behind us. We work right now and it’s all that matters. You don’t want to go and unearth—we might reopen old wounds and it’ll fuck everything up.”

Blaine nods and breaks off a bit of Kurt’s biscotti, bringing it to his mouth before he speaks. “True. We should work on the future. Our future.”

“Blaine!” Kurt says quickly, his eyes wide. “We’ve only been— _this_ for three months. It’s—”

Blaine shrugs. “I have no intention of letting you go.” Again, he’s being overtly earnest and Kurt finds it hard to hold his gaze. Blaine seems to notice because his hand grips Kurt’s once again. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you. I’m being too eager. We should take it slow.”

Kurt looks away from the street and back to Blaine, a sad smile on his face. “You’re doing it again. Letting me shape you.”

“No, I’m being considerate.”

“No, you’re completely changing your mind because I _looked_ scared. If you let me, I will control every aspect of your life and I really don’t want to. It’ll make you hate me. Hold your ground!” Kurt shakes their entwined hands and smirks at Blaine. “You want to talk about the future? Let’s talk about the future.”

And despite the knot in his stomach, Kurt lets Blaine talk about things like ‘moving in together’ and ‘meeting families’ and halfway through their second cup of coffee, Kurt realises his fears are ebbing away, slowly. Blaine talks about them staying together for years like he’s commenting on the forecast of snow for the late afternoon and maybe he’s right. Maybe there’s nothing Kurt has to be scared of. Still, he makes it clear that he is not ready to take too many steps forward.

Blaine, if anything, is stubborn, and despite Kurt’s request that they take it slow with the commitments, Kurt realises Blaine’s started moving in something like two months too late.

It begins with finding Blaine’s clothes when he’s doing the laundry. He doesn’t think twice when he finds pants that are definitely too short for him or shirts he would never _ever_ wear in his hamper. He blames it on himself; the clothes must have been lying on the floor and he picked them up when cleaning after Blaine left.

Once, Blaine forgets his toothbrush and Kurt is so repulsed at the idea of sharing his again that he doesn’t think twice when he buys two instead of one the next day. The shampoo for curly hair finds its way in his shower only because he needs to teach Blaine that his hair doesn’t have to look like he has poodles in his family tree.

It’s when he realises it’s become normal for him to shop for groceries with Blaine that an alarm goes off in his head. He doesn’t just drag him along to carry his bags; he asks for Blaine’s opinion on what he should buy and his pantry is slowly filling with food he would never eat, even under torture. The amount of sugar Blaine ingests is surprising considering how tiny he is.

“Blaine, what are we doing?” he asks and Blaine stops mid-motion, a box of cereals in his hands. Cereals for kids. There are _marshmallows_ in them. Rainbow marshmallows.

Blaine squints at him with puzzlement before smirking. “Did you just have a stroke? We’re buying food. Now come on, we still need to buy cookies. I finished the last box at your apartment.”

“Yes, exactly, Blaine. _My_ apartment. Why am I letting you choose my food?”

“Because I eat over almost every day and you know I can’t stand all that healthy food you love. We’ve discussed this before,” he finishes, hesitating on his last words. “Come on. Cookies.”

Kurt doesn’t move when Blaine does, staying frozen in the middle of the aisle, between boxes of cereals and canned goods, the bass line of the top 40 song playing in the store pounding in his head.

“Kurt?”

“You’re not moving in. Not yet. I’m not ready for that,” he says in a white voice, shaking his head. “It’s nothing personal, and I really like you, but this is just too much. The toothbrush and the shampoo and the clothes are fine, I mean they’re convenient, but you can’t move in yet. I can’t—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Blaine says soothingly, walking over to Kurt and stroking his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m not trying to move in. Well, maybe a little.” He smiles sheepishly at Kurt and looks at him through his eyelashes. “But not until you’re ready. I just like knowing some of my stuff is at your place. It’s like a part of me is always with you.”

“Oh yes, your toothbrush really is a romantic representation of you,” Kurt deadpans. He’s started breathing again and his heartbeat is slowing down. “One day, I want you to. But not right now.”

“I know,” Blaine whispers, getting up on his toes and pressing a quick kiss to Kurt’s nose before stepping away. “Now, do you prefer Oreos or Bear Paws?”

And seriously, Blaine having so much of his stuff over turns out to be very convenient. Especially when they only have thirty-six hours together in between Kurt’s return from Paris and Blaine’s departure for Los Angeles.

Blaine is already there when Kurt arrives and he makes a mental note to worry later that Blaine has a key to his apartment because for the moment, all he wants to do is throw himself at Blaine, crawl in bed with him and stay there until he has to leave.

Blaine seems to want the same thing with the way he pulls Kurt into a tight hug as soon as he shut the door.

“I missed you,” he says in Kurt’s ear and Kurt hugs him tighter, rocking them side to side.

“I missed you, too. How long do we have?”

“My flight is at 8 tomorrow night.”

Kurt pulls away long enough to glance at the ridiculous cat-shaped clock Santana gave him when he moved in alone – _“I’d make a joke about this being the only pussy you’ll ever get but you’re so gay Liberace is jealous, spinster”_ – and sees that it’s a little after 7 in the morning.

“Okay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s lips. “Okay.” He kisses him again, his hands leaving Blaine’s back to frame his face, holding his jaw and tilting his head up to kiss him deeper.

“Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?” Blaine asks in between kisses. His words don’t fit his actions, his hands already working on Kurt’s coat, fighting with the buttons and then pushing it off his shoulders. He unwraps the bulky scarf from around his neck and then buries his face there, breathing Kurt in.

“I want _you_ ,” Kurt says. “It’s been three weeks, and it’ll be another two. I _need_ you right now, Blaine,” he nearly whines, toeing off his shoes and fisting his hands in Blaine’s thin shirt.

He pushes him backwards, their lips crashing together, and they slowly make their way to Kurt’s room, breaking their kiss only so that Kurt can steer them in the right direction before kissing again. Once in his room, Blaine steps away from Kurt and climbs on the bed, scooting across it to rest against the headboard. He looks at Kurt with a wolfish grin and beckons him forward. Kurt crawls on fours across the bed and settles over Blaine, straddling his thigh and sitting in his lap.

Blaine reaches up and trails his fingertips on Kurt’s cheek, tracing the contours of his face with a faraway look in his eyes. His hand moves up to circle the shell of Kurt’s ear and brush the short-trimmed hair around it before moving down his head to wrap around the back of his neck. Blaine pulls him into a kiss and Kurt sighs, his hands resting on Blaine’s shoulders to brace himself as he moves in closer until their chests are pressed together.

“I missed you,” Blaine says again, his other hand grabbing the fabric of Kurt’s shirt at his waist. His hips rock up slightly and Kurt chuckles.

“You missed my dick,” he mumbles against Blaine’s skin, his lips pressing dry kisses along his jaw.

“Yeah, sure, but I also missed you. No one insulted me in the past three weeks. It felt weird.”

“Moron,” Kurt says with a grin before moving in to suck on Blaine’s neck. “I missed you, too. So much,” he whispers against Blaine’s pulse point, kissing the red mark he left there and then dragging his teeth against it.

Blaine groans and bucks up, his hips pressing into Kurt’s and making him gasp. Kurt moves back up to kiss Blaine again. Blaine parts his lips with a gasp when Kurt licks his bottom lip boldly. Kurt pushes his tongue in Blaine’s mouth, shivering when he lets it drag against Blaine’s top teeth.

Their clothes are off soon after, every inch of skin exposed kissed and stroked reverently, and Kurt moans when Blaine pushes him into the mattress, pressing his hips to Kurt’s in a slow grind. Kurt hooks his legs over Blaine’s and skims his hands down Blaine’s sides until he can grab his ass to pull him closer.

Blaine presses his forehead to Kurt’s and Kurt breathes him in, every inch of his skin touching Blaine’s feeling like the nerve endings are on fire.

“What are you thinking?” Blaine breathes out when Kurt doesn’t kiss him back.

 _I love him_. Kurt stops moving as the thought crosses his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut, the strength of the feeling and the realisation making the whole word spin. His heart speeds up and he finds himself panting and it has nothing to do with Blaine’s cock rubbing against his in a slow rhythm.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks and he’s moving away, pulling himself up and looking at Kurt with worried eyes.

Kurt whines and tries to pull him back. He needs Blaine, needs his body and the physicality of it so he doesn’t have to think too much about how much he loves Blaine and what it means that he does.

Of course he loves Blaine. This is the most obvious thing in his entire life and it explains everything. He loves Blaine with every fibre of his body, he loves him and for the first time in his life, he feels certain about something. Kurt Hummel loves Blaine Anderson and isn’t that the best fucking thing ever?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Blaine moves out of his reach. Kurt resolutely keeps his eyes shut, relishing in the light-headed feeling this new-found knowledge brings him. He loves Blaine. “Kurt, honey, what’s wrong?”

Kurt bites his lip when Blaine starts stroking his stomach in soothing circles. He opens his eyes and looks at Blaine, sees that he’s lying on his side and propped up on his elbow to look at Kurt, and Kurt finds himself smiling. He considers telling Blaine what he’s just realised and that thought makes him blush and makes his skin tingle with excitement and nerves.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks again, this time sounding amused because Kurt is unable to hide his smile.

“I love you,” Kurt says simply before grinning bashfully. He would disgust himself if he weren’t _in love with Blaine_.

“Oh my god,” Blaine breathes out, his eyes widening.

“What.” Kurt’s grin has faded and now he’s frowning. What now, seriously.

“Are you serious?” Blaine asks and his voice his rough and _oh_ , that does things to Kurt.

“You think I’d joke about this?” Kurt snaps and he’s getting annoyed, now. “This is the part where you’re supposed to say something, by the way.”

Blaine’s face breaks into a grin at that and he moves in closer and leans over Kurt to kiss him. “I love you,” Blaine whispers against Kurt’s lips and Kurt kisses him harder. There’s too much teeth and it’s too sloppy but Kurt can’t seem to be bothered by it because _Blaine loves him too_. He always suspected it, what with the way Blaine seems to worship the ground he walks on, but to hear it feels amazing.

Kurt rolls them over before attacking Blaine’s mouth with his own and hearing him taking a sharp breath when Kurt gets on top of him, lining up their bodies from toes to shoulders. He starts kissing down Blaine’s neck and across his collarbone, briefly sinking his teeth in the salty-tasting flesh, smirking when Blaine gasps and squirms under him.

“You love this so much,” Kurt whispers, lapping at the red marks he left before blowing cool air on it.

Kurt scrapes his teeth down Blaine’s chest, causing his breath to hitch and stop for a second when he goes over one of Blaine’s nipples. Kurt notices and smirks against Blaine’s skin, wrapping his lips around it and sucking until Blaine is panting and pulling at his hair to bring him back up and kiss him.

“Kurt, just—”

Kurt only hums, glancing up at Blaine with lust-filled eyes when he pulls away to move further down the bed. Kurt starts stroking circles into Blaine’s hips as he nuzzles his navel, his warm breath making Blaine squirm.

“Come here,” Blaine says, fingers wrapping around his bicep to pull him up. Kurt stays put, kissing along the trail of hair below Blaine’s navel. “Kurt—”

“Oh my god, shut up Blaine!” Kurt snaps, the sharp exhale of air following it blowing over Blaine’s erection and making him shudder. “If you don’t want this, I won’t bother, fuck.”

Blaine moans and Kurt smirks again. They both know how much it turns Blaine on when Kurt is being bossy.

“Oh shit I love you so much,” Blaine lets out brokenly when Kurt presses his tongue under the head of his cock, his hands back in Kurt’s hair. In reply, Kurt sucks on the tip shallowly before swirling his tongue around the head and looking up at Blaine through his eyelashes.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed doing this,” Kurt says, his voice low and rough with lust. He strokes Blaine’s cock a few times, rubbing his thumb along a vein before leaning down and licking up it.

“Kurt—” Blaine groans, his hips bucking up.

Kurt nods briefly before taking Blaine in his mouth once more, hands firmly placed on his hips to keep him motionless. Kurt knows he won’t last long, can read Blaine’s body better than his own now, and he brings a hand down against his own cock at the thought that he can do this to Blaine.

Blaine gasps when Kurt moves his hand away from his hips to cup his balls, squeezing them while he keeps sucking Blaine hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. Blaine grabs Kurt’s hair and pulls roughly when he feels his entire body tensing up. Kurt understands the message and moves off him, replacing his mouth with his hand and moving it fast and rough, to the same rhythm he’s using on himself.

Blaine lets out a loud moan when he comes, his eyes squinting shut and his body tensing. Kurt slows down his strokes, driving Blaine crazy as he rides his orgasm, relishing the way Blaine gasps his name brokenly before falling back against the mattress.

Kurt looks at him with a smile, stroking his side softly as he waits for Blaine to gather his bearings. When he opens his eyes, his face breaks into a grin and he looks at Kurt fondly.

“Hi,” Kurt says and then laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your post-coitus face, Anderson.”

Blaine smiles goofily and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the pillow and humming when Kurt strokes his thigh. Reaching forward blindly, he wraps his hand around Kurt’s shoulder and pulls him forward, wrapping his arms around his thin frame. Kurt settles against him and sighs happily, nestling closer. He gasps when his cock brushes against Blaine’s hip.

“Want a hand with that?” Blaine whispers and strokes Kurt with his knuckles. Kurt gasps again and bucks forward, pressing his face against Blaine’s chest. “What do you want?”

Kurt bites his lip before looking up. He knows what he wants, but—oh, what the hell. It’s that kind of day, apparently.

“I want to come on your face.” Kurt keeps his eyes on Blaine’s face, studying it for signs that he’s gone too far with his request and that he threw off the delicate balance they have.

Blaine’s eyes widen and his lips part and before Kurt can start to panic, he’s nodding eagerly and pulling Kurt closer. Trembling at the mere thought of it, Kurt swings a leg over Blaine’s chest and straddles it, shuddering when Blaine starts stroking up and down his thighs.

Feeling slightly self-conscious under Blaine’s unwavering stare, Kurt starts jerking off, his hips rocking forward as his eyes close. He throws his head back and speeds up the strokes when Blaine drags his fingernails down the back of Kurt’s thighs. Kurt’s hips rock forward, fucking reflexively into the tight circle of his fist and he lets out choked noises that he can’t hold back.

Blaine is talking to him but all Kurt can hear is white noise as blood rushes in his ears. He forces his eyes open when he feels he’s close and he lets out a growl when he sees Blaine’s eyes, his pupils blown and his eyes wide and hungry as he watches Kurt. With another growl, Kurt comes, his breath catching in his chest as he watches streak after streak fall on Blaine’s face, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.

With a loud gasp, Kurt shakily climbs off Blaine.

“Oh my god,” Blaine lets out in a white voice.

“Yeah,” Kurt says, laughing breathlessly.

“I love you.”

“I know.” Kurt smirks when Blaine pokes his side. “I love you, too.”

“I’m not getting used to this anytime soon,” Blaine says and Kurt doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling, he can hear it in his voice.

Kurt yawns as he nods, curling on his side and pulling Blaine closer. When Blaine tries to nuzzle his cheek, he pushes him away with a disgusted noise. “You still have jizz on your face.”

“Jizz? Seriously?”

“Hey, humour me, I haven’t slept in more than a day,” Kurt snaps, yawning again.

“Then go to sleep. I’ll wake you up later,” Blaine replies softly, stroking Kurt’s sweat-soaked hair.

“For more sex?” Kurt asks, already feeling himself slip away.

“Duh.”

Kurt smiles and settles against his pillows. He wants to protest when he feels Blaine get off the bed but his limbs have turned into lead. The last thing he’s conscious of is Blaine’s hand stroking up and down his spine and then he’s gone.

He wakes up to the smell of pancakes filling the apartment. With a groggy smile, Kurt pulls the pillow closer to him and hugs it, burying his face in the fabric and smiling when he smells Blaine all over it. Rolling on his back, he stretches and yawns before getting out of bed. Fumbling through his closet for his robe, he eventually gives up and puts on a pair of Blaine’s boxers and a plain shirt before slowly making his way to the kitchen.

“Hey, there,” Blaine says. He’s wearing Kurt’s robe and it hangs from his slightly less broad shoulders in a very adorable way. Grinning, he carries the plate of pancakes to the table, where he’s already placed maple syrup, strawberries and cream, as well as two steaming cups of coffee. “I was about to wake you up for breakfast.”

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Kurt comments as he sits at the table after lighting a cigarette and fetching an ashtray from the kitchen counter.

“So? It’s always the right time for pancakes.”

“This is mine,” Kurt says, pointing to the robe.

Blaine shrugs, smiling sheepishly as he covers his stack of pancakes with butter and way too much maple syrup. “It smelled like you when you were gone. And I’ve grown fond of it.”

“My pillow smelled like you. Did you sleep here?”

Blaine looks up from his plate and Kurt gives him a small smile. “Some days, yeah. I hope you don’t mind?”

Kurt shakes his head and takes a sip of coffee, closing his eyes and sighing in appreciation. When he reopens them, he sees Blaine pouring a spoonful of sugar in his coffee.

“How are you not fat?” Kurt asks in disbelief. “I mean, smoking keeps me skinny, but you—how?!”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, his mouth filled with pancakes. He swallows before continuing. “I train a bit? I always run, no matter where I go? I don’t know. But now that you mention it—when will you quit smoking?”

Kurt groans and throws his head back to look at the ceiling. “Not again.”

“Yes, again.” Blaine is looking completely serious and it’s such a foreign look on Blaine’s face that Kurt stays silent to listen to what he has to say. “I am not sitting by your bedside as you die of lung cancer.”

“I will not die of lung cancer, Blaine. You’re being such a drama queen right now.”

“Okay, look. I’m not saying anything about all the other shit I know you do at parties, but this—this is something regular and it’s _worse_. And don’t give me that look, Kurt, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t make me say it.”

Kurt raises his eyebrow. “Why? Because saying I’ve done coke will break the perfect image you have of me?”

Blaine winces. “How you can be so casual about this is beyond me.”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t anymore, okay? And it was only once or twice. Nothing to freak out about. I’ve done E more often.”

Blaine sighs and throws his hands in the air. “Okay, you know what? I’m not saying anything about this because I’m focusing on the smoking.”

“Look, I don’t do hard drugs anymore, okay? Not since—” Kurt bites his lip and puts out his cigarette. Oh, why not. “Not since I met you.”

Blaine gives him a small smile and a shrug. “I just hate knowing you keep poisoning yourself.”

“I want to stop. It’s just—it’s really hard. But, hum. I think you could be a good enough motivation to stop,” Kurt says slowly, not looking at Blaine.

Blaine reaches across the table and takes his hand, squeezing it briefly. “I’ll even let you be a fucking bitch to me as you get through the withdrawal.”

“Aw, this means so much to me,” Kurt coos sarcastically, putting a hand on his heart. “But thank you. I appreciate it.”

 

As they keep eating, Kurt takes a moment to look around. With the cold winter light pouring into the room from the kitchen window, the scene looks like it was taken straight out of a home decoration magazine and bitch, _please_ , his kitchen is better than those model ones at Ikea. And then there’s Blaine, eating hungrily and looking more relaxed than Kurt has ever seen him.

This is what he wants every day. He wants to wake up with his bed smelling like Blaine, wants to forget whose clothes he’s putting on to make his way to the kitchen where he’ll find his boyfriend cooking them breakfast or eating a bowl of cereal while watching Saturday morning cartoons.

He wants the domesticity he always sworn he’d never get trapped in. The very thing that makes him feel trapped every time he visits Finn and Rachel now seems so appealing. Kurt reaches across the table to take Blaine’s hand in his and the other man looks up from his plate to give him a bright smile.

“When you come back from LA, I think you should move in,” Kurt says calmly, ignoring the thumping of his heart in his ears.

Blaine’s breath hitches and he stares at Kurt for a few seconds. “Are you serious?”

Kurt nods, pressing his lips together and squeezing Blaine’s hand. “Do you want to?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Kurt grins until his cheeks hurt and Blaine mirrors it before getting up and circling the table. Stopping in front of Kurt, he cups his face in his hands and kisses him. Kurt keeps on smiling, humming when he tastes sugar and coffee on Blaine’s tongue.

When Blaine straightens up, Kurt follows him and with a silent agreement, they move to Kurt’s room, losing their clothes on the way there and falling to the mattress in a mess of limbs and slow, sweet kisses and strokes. This time, they take it slow, touching and enjoying every breath and shiver. They stare into the other’s eyes the whole time, clinging like they need something to anchor them.

By the time Blaine has to get ready to go to the airport, Kurt’s entire body is sore. He feels drained and exhausted but in the best way possible.

“I can’t believe you didn’t pack before now,” Kurt says around a yawn. He’s sprawled on his bed, wrapped in his robe that now smells like Blaine, and he watches his boyfriend run around the room with an amused smirk.

“I did! I have a suitcase right there!” He points to the corner of the room and Kurt rolls his eyes when he sees the suitcase in question is open and half-empty. “Do you really mind if I end up with some of your clothes? I’m really fucking late.”

Kurt hums and yawns again, sitting up against the pillows so he doesn’t fall asleep. Despite his best efforts, he can feel his eyes closing on their own and he’s about to give in when he hears the click of a camera.

“What the fuck?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and then glaring at Blaine.

“You looked too gorgeous. I needed—I’ll have something to look at until I come back.”

Kurt awes and smiles sadly. He gets on his knees and crawls across the bed until he’s at the edge. Blaine steps closer to it and lets Kurt wrap him in a tight hug, his arms going around Blaine’s waist and his head resting on his chest. Blaine closes his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and kisses his hair, still damp from the shower they shared. They stay like that for a long time, until Blaine lets out a long sigh and steps back.

“I need to call a cab.”

“Finish packing, I’ll call it for you.”

Kurt leaves his room – soon, _their_ room – and searches for his phone. As he waits for the taxi central to pick up, he wraps his free arm around himself and starts gnawing on his bottom lip. In the thirty-one hours they spent together, their relationship has progressed more than in the past six months. He should feel scared but he’s not. It might be foolish, but he has a strange kind of conviction that they’re going to last, that this time it’s for real and forever. Biting back a smile, he turns his back to his room so Blaine doesn’t seem him acting like a schoolgirl.

Ten minutes later, Kurt has pulled on the first clothes he could find and tightly wrapped himself in his coat and favourite scarf to accompany Blaine to his cab. He watches, his hands buried deep in his pockets, as Blaine loads his suitcase in the trunk of the car before walking back to him.

There’s a light snow falling and it glistens in the yellow light of the streetlamps. The grey and brown scenery of the past week is slowly being covered in a new layer of white as if to remind them that February is still very much a winter month. Kurt finds himself wishing for a storm, one that would trap the entire city indoors and make roads impracticable, but then he thinks that it might trap Blaine in Los Angeles, and that anyway a snow storm wouldn’t be nice at all without Blaine to cuddle with. He gives a sad sigh just as Blaine reaches him and pulls him into a hug.

“It’s only two weeks,” Blaine whispers.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Me too. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt can’t help but smirk at how cheesy their conversation is.

Blaine brings a gloved hand to his cheek and inches his head down before pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt’s lips. Kurt kisses him back and Blaine steps closer, his frozen nose pressing against Kurt’s equally frozen cheek.

“Go,” Kurt says, stepping away. “Or you’ll never leave.”

Blaine nods and hesitates for a second before dashing in for one last kiss and then getting in the cab. Kurt stays outside until he can’t see the car anymore.

He’s officially completely and utterly dependent of Blaine and honestly, he doesn’t mind.

The next months are a rush of contracts and boxes – _so many boxes_ , seriously, Blaine is probably a hoarder in the making – and before Kurt can stop and think about it, summer has arrived and with it, Rachel and Finn visiting for a few days.

“I’m going now!” Kurt calls through the apartment, his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait!”

Kurt smiles as he hears Blaine’s running footsteps. He stops in front of Kurt and gives him a worried look. “Are you bringing them over afterwards?”

“Maybe?” Kurt squints, trying to read Blaine’s expression. He looks worried. “Would that be a problem?”

“No, no, it’s just—they’re your family. It’s—your family. You know?”

“You’ve met them before.”

“I know, but I wasn’t—I didn’t meet them as your boyfriend. You know.” Blaine waves his hand dismissively but Kurt knows better.

“They’re going to love you,” Kurt says softly, lifting Blaine’s chin with his hand to kiss him. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t invite them over. It’s no big deal. Once they start feeling tired, around nine probably because they’re already old, I’ll come back and we can watch a movie, okay? Or we can go out. We haven’t gone out in a while.”

“You can invite them. You’re right. And I mean, Rachel already loves me, doesn’t she?”

Kurt chuckles. “You never know with Rachel. But alright. I’ll see you later, then!”

With one last kiss, Kurt leaves the apartment and once he’s outside the building, decides to walk instead of taking a cab. The weather is gorgeous and there’s a spring to his steps he can’t quite explain. He almost craves for a cigarette but he is _not_ having a fight over this again with Blaine.

He reaches the restaurant they’re meeting at half an hour later, making him fashionably late. Smirking at his own perfect timing, he steps in and starts looking around. He locates Finn quickly standing awkwardly by a potted plant.

“Hey, Kurt!” Finn says cheerfully.

“Hey!” Kurt greets him, pulling him into a hug. “It’s been so long, oh my god.” Finn pats his back quickly before getting out of the hug and looking around nervously. “Where’s Rachel?”

“She was feeling sick so she stayed at the hotel. This—hum. This is a fancy restaurant.”

“I know, right? It’s one of my favourite. You have got to try their bread sticks. They don’t compare to those from Breadstix in Lima, not in a million years.”

Finn is quiet for a few seconds. “Can we go somewhere else?”

Kurt frowns at him and crosses his arms over his chest just as a waiter comes to tell them their table is ready. “No, we can’t. Come on.”

Finn lets out a groan and follows Kurt through the restaurant. Kurt waits for the waiter to be gone before he leans across the table.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he hisses.

“People are going to think we’re on a date, dude,” Finn whispers back, glancing around.

“ _Seriously_? Oh my god, stop being so provincial and grow up, Finn. Who cares what people assume.” Kurt leans back in his chair and sighs. He is so through with this conversation.

“Alright, I get it, you’re a New Yorker now so that makes you Mr. Cool but stop being so—huh.”

“Condescending?” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a Midwesterner and maybe I’ll consider it.” With that, Kurt raises his menu and hides behind it.

“You’re one, too. Don’t forget it,” Finn mumbles.

“Was I ever? Really? When did I fit in in Ohio? Be honest,” he asks, lowering the menu to look at Finn.

Finn opens his mouth and then closes it a few times before letting his shoulders slump. “Whatever. What’s your advice?” he asks, flattening the menu on the table so Kurt can look at it.

Finn’s mood gets considerably better as Kurt describe him his favourite meals and he seems to have forgotten that he was uncomfortable in the first place.

“We should get wine, too,” Kurt says after they’ve made their choice. “Want to split a bottle?”

“Huh. I’d rather have a beer.”

“ _Finn_. We’re in an Italian restaurant. You are not drinking beer. We’re splitting a bottle of Chardonnay whether you like it or not.”

“No, seriously, beer will be fine.”

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong this time?” Kurt snaps, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, sharing wine... that’s a bit—”

“If you’re about to say gay, I swear to god I will kill you. Do you want me to put a disclaimer on our table? ‘Hey everyone! We’re actually brothers!’?” Kurt says, loud enough to cause the few tables around them to glance their way. “Happy? Now our neighbours know. You can relax and fucking drink wine.”

Finn groans and rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest anymore. It stays tense until they get their food and Finn literally moans with delight at his first bite.

“Told you we had to stay here,” Kurt gloats, smirking. He takes a sip of his glass and smiles. “So, how’s everyone? Catch me up on all the juicy gossip.”

“Well, huh. Santana is back in Lima. We don’t know for how long but she’s staying with Puckerman and Quinn. They all seem pretty upset about it.”

“Mm,” Kurt says. “I bet Santana broke up with her girlfriend and was kicked out of their apartment in San Francisco. Continue.”

“Yeah, that’s our guess too except she won’t tell. Quinn is passing the—huh. What’s it called?”

“The bar?”

“Yeah. Next month. Puck won’t shut up at the garage about how proud of her accomplishments he is. You think he’s taunting me because of Rachel’s failure?”

Kurt winces at his brother’s lack of tact and at how he always takes everything personally. “I don’t know. I don’t honestly care. Go on.”

“Well, nothing else, really. Apparently Brittany is pregnant but we don’t know for sure, the only person who still talks to her frequently is Santana and she gets mad when we say her name. Have you seen her?”

“New York is a big city, Finn.”

“Oh, yeah. She didn’t try to contact you?”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t think she has my number. What about Artie and Mercedes?” Kurt is slowly realising this conversation was a bad idea. He’s feeling nostalgic, all of a sudden.

“Mercedes is helping Rachel with voice lessons, she came over for dinner the other night with Mike and Tina. You wouldn’t recognise the twins, oh my god, they’ve grown so much. Artie’s still teaching Geometry at McKinley. Speaking of which,” Finn takes a sip of wine, “Rachel took over the glee club.”

“Really? Now _that_ ’s good news!”

“Yeah, since Mr. Schue left it was worse than when Sandy was in charge. She called them New Directions again and, well, since she started last Spring, she couldn’t do much, but she’ll try to get them to Nationals next year.”

“That’s amazing,” Kurt says, smiling earnestly.

“Yeah, she’s really getting into it. She’s working on this montage of all our best performances to show the kids what she can do, it’s pretty awesome.”

“You have to send me a copy of that,” Kurt says in a breath, his heart clenching painfully. “I’m so happy to hear that everyone’s doing great. What about you, Finn?”

Finn shrugs. “Nothing, really. It’s going great at the shop with your dad, and Rachel’s pregnant again, but other than that—”

“Wait, what?” Kurt exclaims, leaning forward abruptly. “Are you serious?!”

“Yeah. We found out right before leaving. It’s pretty cool.” Finn is grinning, fully conscious of the effect his statement had on Kurt.

“It’s more than cool, Finn!”

Kurt gets up and rounds the table to hug Finn briefly. Finn stiffens but lets him do it. He chuckles nervously when Kurt sits back down.

“What about you?” he asks after clearing his throat.

Kurt shrugs. “Lots of contracts, very little sleep, the usual.”

Finn smirks. “Still single?”

Kurt licks his lips and looks at Finn coyly. “No?”

It’s Finn’s turn to express his surprise loudly, his eyes the size of saucers. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. It’s, well, you’ve met him before. It’s Blaine.”

“Isn’t that the guy you hooked up with last year?”

“Why don’t you say it louder?” Kurt snaps, glaring at Finn. Finn apologises and Kurt rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy.” Kurt laughs nervously. “We’ve been together for a while now. We live together, actually.”

“And you’re only telling me now?”

Kurt shrugs. “I didn’t want to jinx it.”

Finn’s smile is wide dopey grin that Kurt finds so endearing before reaching for his glass. “To my little brother, who’s finally settling down.”

“Fuck you, I’m older,” Kurt snaps, nonetheless clinking his glass against Finn’s.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still my little brother.”

“Just for that, I’m going to tell you that our sex life is _mind-blowing_. Just earlier, before I left to meet you, he gave me a—”

Finn goes pale and puts his fingers in his ears, shaking his head wildly. “I’m going to throw up if you finish that sentence. I’m serious.”

Kurt laughs and rolls his eyes fondly, kicking Finn’s shin under the table for good measure. The conversation flows easily; they tease and get snarky with each other because they know it won’t hurt and Kurt feels his heart swell when he stops to think that Finn has only been his brother for less than a decade and they get along like they grew up together. Kurt would tell Finn he loves him if he didn’t know that would send Finn running out of the restaurant in a panic attack. Everything in its right time, and one day the right moment will come when Kurt will be able to tell Finn how much their relationship means to him.

“I’m glad our parents married,” Kurt says instead, smiling fondly at Finn.

Finn returns the smile and nods. “Me too. You’re awesome, bro.”

Kurt’s smile turns into a frown. “‘Bro’ is not becoming a thing, Finn.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Do you honestly see me saying ‘bro’ without irony? What next, fist-bumps?” Kurt deadpans, quirking his eyebrow.

“Totally,” Finn replies, extending his closed fist over the table for Kurt to bump it. “C’mon, dude, don’t leave me hanging.”

Glaring at Finn and trying as hard as he can to let it show he’s judging him, Kurt bumps his fist against Finn’s.

“This is so becoming a thing, bro.”

Kurt groans in exasperation and rolls his eyes. Maybe love was a strong word. Maybe ‘appreciation’ is more suited. ‘Tolerance,’ even.

It’s only while they’re in Central Park that Blaine is brought up again. They shared a dessert after their main course, even though Finn once again had a semi-freak out and Kurt purposely decided to ignore his reaction to avoid ruining his evening.

“I think I might end up marrying him,” Kurt says softly, looking up at Finn. They’re sitting on a bench and enjoying how comfortable the silence is between them. “Blaine, I mean. It’s only been, what, around a year, since we stopped shouting abuse at each other, but I really think he’s the one.”

“It’s scary, huh,” Finn whispers as he stares up at the sky. He turns his head to glance at Kurt.

“God, yes,” Kurt breathes out and chuckles. Admitting it out loud already feels like some of the pressure in his chest is being taken off. “Were you that scared at first, with Rachel?”

“I still am, dude. Not all the time, but just. Sometimes she gets that sort of—distant look in her eyes and I know—well I guess she’s thinking about New York and what she left behind. And I get scared she’ll run away, come back here and start again. But then she’ll look at me and smile this bright smile that makes her eyes sparkle and—”

“And you know she’s not going anywhere? Blaine does that. We’ll fight about something – and we fight _all the time_ – but then half an hour later he’ll sit next to me and look at me like—like someone took away the greatest thing he ever had and he needs it back to breathe. And I just. I’m so scared I’ll fuck everything up with him, Finn. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”

Finn snorts. “I feel the same with Rachel.”

They both sigh in synch and that makes them laugh.

“I better be your best man,” Finn says after a while. He leans to the side to bump his shoulder against Kurt’s.

“Of course,” Kurt answers and he suddenly can’t stop grinning.

“Now you just need to introduce him to Burt.”

Kurt groans and slumps his shoulders, his smile fading. “I’m not looking forward to that. But you know what? I think they’d get along too well. It would be terrifying.”

“You should see Rachel and Carole. But yeah, come home for Thanksgiving and bring Blaine along. It’d be cool. We miss you every year. And at Christmas. The family’s not complete when you’re not there, dude.”

Kurt smiles sadly at his brother. “I needed to—to come to terms with some things, first. Lima is such a bad place for me, Finn. Nothing good ever came out of Lima for me.”

“Isn’t Blaine from Lima?” Finn squints. “He said something like that last year when he—”

“Westerville. He’s from Westerville.”

“See? Good things come out of Ohio. Will you at least think about it? It would make Burt really happy.”

Kurt glares at the ground. Finn is playing unfair, mentioning Burt and reminding Kurt how much he must hurt his father by basically being MIA. “I’ll consider it,” he finally concedes. “I’ll have to talk to Blaine about it, first.”

They end up going to Lima, after Blaine had a quasi-breakdown and forced Kurt to kiss him until he shut up. As Kurt had predicted, Blaine and Burt get along right away and within two hours, they’re teaming up to tease Kurt on his odd quirks.

“Hey.” Burt pats Kurt’s shoulder as he sits next to him in the living room. Blaine is helping Rachel and Carole with the dishes and Finn is putting his daughter to bed. The entire house is warm and it feels cosy and like _home_ , something it hadn’t in a very long time. Kurt pulls his legs up on the couch and curls up on himself like he did so many times when he was still in high school and it felt like he wasn’t going to be able to go through another day.

“Hey,” Kurt replies.

“You happy?” Burt asks and Kurt smiles at his father’s lack of diplomacy. When Kurt takes a few seconds to answer, Burt keeps talking. “Carole had me buy that magazine you were on the cover of, last month. I had to explain to the guy at the cash that you were my son. Do you imagine your dad buying a fashion magazine on his own?”

Kurt giggles. “I would have loved to see this.” When he looks up from the floor, Burt is staring at him. “Yes, dad, I’m happy.” He purses his lips. “Happier than I used to be, at least. It’s a fu—it’s a crazy job and sometimes it takes its toll, you know?”

“You really want to hear my opinion again on your career choice?” Burt says and there’s roughness to his tone.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Kurt whispers cautiously. “I quit smoking, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. When Blaine moved in, he made it clear he didn’t want to smell like an ashtray and he helped me through the withdrawal. I mean, I wanted to stop, but I could never get through more than a week or two. I still get cravings, sometimes, but it’s getting better. He helps a lot.”

“He helps with more than that, I think.”

Kurt rests his chin on his knees and smiles. “Yes,” he says softly. “He helps with a lot of things.”

“I wish you’d met him in high school.” Kurt looks at him. “I wouldn’t have worried so much about you. About what I might find when I got home.”

“You know very well you’d still have worried about me, Dad. It’s your job to worry about me,” Kurt says and he really, really needs to lighten the mood because his eyes have started to prick.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.” Burt pats his shin before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking loudly if there’s still dessert and laughing when Carole lectures him on cholesterol and diabetes.

Kurt watches him leave, biting his lip. He almost corrected his father and told him he was only visiting, but he realised Burt meant more than just Kurt being back in Lima. He meant Kurt being _back_. The Kurt that was scared away by bullying and violence, by dumpsters and slushies and stolen kisses, the Kurt who would have needed someone by his side but who kept pushing everyone away; that Kurt is back. He’s not hiding anymore and Kurt feels liberated.

And it’s all thanks to Blaine. He came into Kurt’s life and threw down the walls he’d built for protection. He chased Kurt out of his hiding spots, disarmed his defences and he’s slowly helping Kurt build himself back up, open but stronger. All of it with touches and smiles and ‘I love you’s’, and it’s all Kurt needed. It’s so simple but it took him so long to realise that in order to find himself, he needed to rediscover who he is through the eyes of someone else. He needed to learn to love himself through the love someone had for him.

He’s sure of it, now: he’s going to marry Blaine. He doesn’t know when – they still have so many issues to work through, like how they apparently can’t go two days without arguing – but he will. Smiling to himself, Kurt gets up and joins the rest of his family in the kitchen to help Carole in her lecture about his father’s health. He catches Blaine’s eyes as he enters the room and the other man smiles at him brightly and winks.

“How do you like my family, Blaine?” Kurt asks over the argument now involving Rachel.

“They’re nice,” Blaine answers with a laugh.

“Well, you better, because this isn’t the last time you see them.”

“Is that a promise?” Blaine asks, quirking his eyebrow. He’s smirking.

“Watch me,” Kurt answers haughtily.

“Always.”


End file.
